


White Snow: Initiation

by Vhetin1138



Series: White Snow: Year 1 [3]
Category: Star Wars, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Bounty Hunters, Coruscant, Gen, Jay's first hunt, Mandalorian, OCs galore, Rhen Var, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 03:48:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 43,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10711563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vhetin1138/pseuds/Vhetin1138
Summary: Jay's training is progressing nicely under Cin Vhetin's tutelage. Under his careful and often relentless guidance, she is quickly growing into the deadly mercenary he knows she can become.But now the time for training is coming to an end. She is almost ready to take her first fledgling steps into the dangerous world of intergalactic bounty hunting. When an old conflict from Vhetin's past returns to haunt him, he must take Jay to hunt down a dangerous criminal mastermind who has eluded capture time and time again.Seeking help from all sides of the board - from ruthless criminal syndicates to Journeyman Protectors - the two must race across the galaxy to bring this dangerous being to justice before he strikes again...





	1. The Prince and the Usurper

“ _Te buurenaar nu_ _’nuhoy. Te oya’karir ganar cin vhetin.”_

“The storm no longer slumbers. The hunt begins anew.”

\- Mandalore the Unyielding, on the eve of the first Great Hunt

* * *

**Brimstone Tapcaf, Imperial City (formerly Coruscant)**

The galaxy was a big place, populated by trillions upon trillions of people. A great ecumenopolis like Coruscant housed a good number of them, all crammed into great glittering towers that stretched so high into the sky Republic researchers had long ago been forced to artificially expand the atmosphere to maintain the planet’s habitability.

Finding a single person in the endless urban sprawl was a quite literal impossibility. Unless, of course, one knew where to look. And Kassh Goran knew that to find someone who wished to remain hidden, one had to leave the congested skylanes and heavenly towers that adorned the Upper City. One had to turn their gaze to the dirt, long ago lost beneath kilometers of duracrete foundations.

The “civilized” people of Coruscant called the upper levels their home. But the deeper one went, the further into the darkness and the filth, away from the scintillating lights of the towers, the more populous and profitable Coruscant truly became. After descending to the underlevels of the planet city, the art museums and opera houses were replaced by weapon vendors and shady drug hubs. The spotless Senate Chambers were nowhere in sight here, blocked from view by strip clubs, stimspice dens, mercenary enclaves, and — most importantly — cantinas.

As he pushed through the front door of the Brimstone Tapcaf, he instantly knew he’d found who he was looking for; the retrofitted B2 battle droids flanking the door, supported by an entire retinue of lanky Twi’lek, Nikto, and human mercenaries, would not be here unless they were guarding something — or a specific several someones — of significant importance.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. He entered anyway, knowing none of the guards had the will or courage to stop him. Most weren’t even able to look him in the eye.

Kassh Goran was no great warrior. He wore no armor, boasted no fearsome scalps on his person, and carried nothing more than a small field pistol holstered on his hip. But he inspired fear in others nonetheless. Even here, these guards knew his reputation. They knew what he was capable of and what he was willing to do to get what he wanted. So they let him pass, more eager to face the wrath of their employers than stand up to him.

The music that was roaring across the cantina was more annoying than usual, washing against his sensitive hearing with all the painful insistence of a power grinder. He passed by the stage, using all his considerable willpower to keep himself from plugging his ears in annoyance. He instead shot a glare at the spindle-legged Dug singer and continued his journey through the filth-ridden bar, tossing the stump of his severed lekku over his shoulder. His eyes were trained forward, a dark sneer pulling at his features.

It didn’t take long to reach the reinforced door in the back; the cantina was largely deserted to ensure the security of its special VIP patrons. The Rodian standing guard to the left of the door was obviously braver than his compatriots outside, as the bug-like alien trained his blaster on the newcomer as soon as Kassh drew near. His proboscis twitched and he spoke in a reedy, garbled voice.

“ _Stop right there,_ _”_ the Rodian hissed in Huttese. _“No one’s allowed in. I suggest you head back the way you came.”_

The Twi’lek said nothing. Instead, he held up his hand, palm-out, and displayed the segmented diamond tattoo that adorned his palm. The Rodian's bloated bug eyes widened slightly, but he didn't move.

" _I'm sorry, sir_ ," the alien muttered, a grudging note of respect entering his tone. Somehow his nasally bug-like buzz was more annoying than the Dug singer’s gravely screaming. " _But you must relinquish your weapons before entry is permitted._ "

Arguing with or killing the guard would be a waste of time he could not afford. So Kassh decided to play along, at least for the moment. He handed the guard his pistol and the vibroblade sheathed down his boot, then patiently waited for entrance. The bug-faced alien nodded in thanks as he tucked the weapons into his own belt.

" _They aren't expecting you, but I have orders to allow you entrance._ "

Kassh cocked his head. That was interesting. "Orders from whom?"

" _Sorry, sir_ ," the guard said. " _I'm not at liberty to say_."

Kassh was about to insist an answer, but the Rodian was clearly no longer interested in talking. He punched the keypad next to the door and stepped back with a respectful nod, folding his sucker-tipped fingers over his pistol. The entryway slid open with a loud  _schff_ of retreating metal that was almost lost in the clamor of the bar.

He bit back a grimace and stepped inside. As the door rumbled open, a wave of disgusting scents washed over him; warm, thick, and sickly-sweet, as if he’d taken a hefty whiff of the choice contents of a landfill. But then, the pungent odor was to be expected considering the room's inhabitants.

The room beyond was largely devoid of furniture, save for a single round conference table that dominated the spacious area. The table was hollow in the center, and he knew the floor could retract to give attendants an unobstructed view of the secret beast pits lurking just below the floor.

For now, however, the hatch was closed. The room’s occupants were not here for blood, but for business.

Crowded around the round table sat nearly every major mob boss, gang leader, and criminal mastermind in the galaxy. There were four Nikto sitting bunched up together, two Twi'leks - a male and a female – sitting on opposite ends of the group, and no less than three Hutts reclining their repulsive slimy bulks on cushioned thrones.

That was a surprise. The decadent Hutts were known to bring their entire retinue with them everywhere, as if they felt naked without an army of weak-kneed supplicants catering to their every whim. This meeting must be more important than Kassh originally thought if they had forgone such comforts to retain their secrecy. It brought that much more satisfaction to the fact that he was interrupting without prior notice.

"Profits from the Malastare podraces are decreasing dramatically," one of the Nikto was growling out in heavily-accented Basic. "Ever since it was leaked that the races were fixed, local law enforcement troops have been swarming the tracks, rooting out our agents at every opportunity."

" _The corrupt podraces are of no concern to my people_ ," gurgled one of the Hutts in its native language, waving a flabby arm. It plucked a squirming morsel from the bowl resting at its elbow, dumping the squealing creature into its slimy gullet with a contented gurgle. " _Hutta has no interest in such trivial matters. Leave the podraces to the regional administrators."_

The female Twi'lek, her skin a rare shade of flushed beige, cocked a single elegant eyebrow at the massive slug-like alien. "The loss of profit from the races will surely be felt in all our organizations. If you recall, many of our business transactions are performed within the anonymity of the race crowds. Further scrutiny will only compound our losses."

" _You_ _… have a point,"_  the Hutt grumbled. " _I will be sure to place bribes in the right pockets and place the appropriate bounties. Shall we take our rivals dead or alive?_ _”_

 _“Dead_ ,” another Hutt rumbled, folding thick arms over a slime-coated, bloated belly. “ _Silence those who claim the races are fixed. And begin a new advertisement campaign throughout the Outer Rim. The seasonal finals are approaching. If we taper off our control of the races — only temporarily, of course — the crowds will flock back to us in droves._ _”_

 _“Indeed,”_ the first Hutt boomed. “ _I will make arrangements once we have confirmation that—_ _”_

The massive alien stopped mid-sentence as their intruder finally stepped into the light. He cleared his throat to draw their attention, linking his arms casually behind his back. All the crime lords turned and took him in with identical expressions of bewilderment, anger, and surprise. He saw fear in some of their gazes, while others regarded him with nothing but careful curiosity.

He swaggered into their midst, a smile tugging at his lips. One of the Hutts — that fat blubberpot, Jabba — narrowed his yellow reptilian eyes in anger and rumbled, " _You!_ "

"Yes." Kassh came to a halt and bowed his head in mock-respect. "Me, unfortunately."

Jabba tried to wriggle his way towards him, but without his repulsor sled he was unable to accomplish anything but a pathetic waving of his arms and a weak flop of his tail. The gangster was not as young as he once had been, and had boot on a good half ton since Kassh had last seen him. After a few futile moments he fell back against his pillows and growled in his wet-sounding native tongue.

" _Give me one good reason why I should not have my guards in the cantina blast you here and now,_ schutta."

Another Hutt, the equally slimy but somehow slightly less repulsive Rotta, held up a greasy greenish appendage. " _Wait_ ," he gurgled. " _Let him speak._ " He turned his flabby face towards their new visitor. " _Why do you approach us, deserter? You know your exile from our territories still stands. We are well within our rights to kill you here and now._ "

Kassh snorted with disdain. "I would hardly consider myself a deserter, Rotta. Is it such a crime to pursue my own career?"

" _It is when you take_ my _money to begin your so-called_ career," Jabba muttered.

"Come now, Jabba," Kassh said, placatingly spreading his hands. "How much money have you stolen from  _your_  employers over your long career? It’s merely part of the game we have all decided to play. And you, my old friend, are a sore loser."

Jabba grumbled and settled deeper into his cushioned seat. If possible, his flabby head sunk deeper into his chest, making his neck pile up around it like a wrapped hose. He glared out at Twi’lek gangster with narrowed yellow eyes, but didn’t speak again.

One of the Nikto called attention away from the Hutt and spoke in thickly-accented Basic. "And how can we trust this one? He has already betrayed us once. For all we know, he could have brought the authorities right to our doorstep!"

The third Hutt, Kamna, belched loudly. " _I think we should throw him out right now_. _Or perhaps dump him into the beast pens to play with the nexu._ "

The beautiful Twi'lek woman settled her delicate arms on the table in front of her, gesturing to Kassh with a single wave of her fingers. "No, I would like to hear what he has to say. He would not have returned simply to antagonize our Hutt friends.”

She cocked her head, her lekku spilling enticingly over one bared shoulder. “Speak on, Kassh. You have my assurance that you will not be harmed."

He threw her a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Sekha."

The smile she returned was beautiful enough to send any humanoid’s heart fluttering. But he knew better than to trust it, or let it distract him from his purpose here. He paused for only a moment before he began his carefully-rehearsed speech.

"As you are no doubt aware,” he began, “our operations within the galaxy's underworld are becoming increasingly difficult to conceal from the Empire. The Old Republic was decadent enough for our separate organizations to grow and flourish under its decadent rule. But the Emperor’s iron fist is slowly squeezing the life – and the money – from even the oldest of our traditions.

"Our mercenaries have been drafted by the Imperial military, bribed with payments that we sadly cannot match,” he said, counting off on his long-nailed fingers. “Our allies within the Senate and the Treasury no longer deal with us for fear of attracting their masters' wrath." He gestured to the Nikto. "Now the podraces are faltering. How much longer before our racketeering schemes crumble? How many weeks before our weapon suppliers are swallowed up by Imperial buyers and our assassins tempted with employment by Imperial Intelligence?”

He shook his head with a scoff. “At this rate, it is only a matter of time before the Empire beats us at our own game."

There were mutters of reluctant agreement around the table. Even Jabba, his head still sunk down into his neck, nodded slowly.

"My faithful employees," Kassh continued, "have run calculations. Given the current rate of the Empire's expansion into the criminal underworld, we will all be driven out of business and most likely executed by the end of this galactic decade. We are all, of course, aware that the Emperor does not tolerate those who infringe upon his plans. He would gladly kill us all."

There was no movement at the table as his words sunk in. Then the Nikto began whispering among themselves and Sekha nodded slowly, a thoughtful look in her dark eyes.

"As it stands," he said, hooking his arms behind his back once more, "the strongest among our organizations, Black Sun - the one criminal consortium that would have half a chance of lessening the Emperor's hold on us - has publicly  _allied_ itself with the New Order to seek refuge within its fold. That is absolutely unacceptable."

" _Why_?" another of the Nikto grumbled in his native language. " _Let the mighty Prince Xizor do as he wishes with his people and his money. If the Emperor has one criminal syndicate under his thumb, he will not look to claim another._ "

Kassh gazed at the speaker with open skepticism. "You are free to believe what you will, Master T'aaki. You are free to hide away and hope the big, bad Empire bypasses your doorstep. But I assure you, you will curse your ignorance in this meeting when they find you, burn your strongholds to the ground, and place you before a firing squad."

"Black Sun is no threat to us," said the male Twi'lek. "Why must we treat the good prince as the enemy?"

"Don't be naïve. Do you truly believe the Imperials can be seen publicly treating with  _our_  weapons dealers?  _Our_ corrupt podrace officials? Black Sun is the hidden hand of the Empire, felt throughout the underworld. And if the Emperor moves against us, rest assured it will be Xizor’s troops who stand against us, and the Prince himself who pulls the trigger."

The Twi'leks glanced between themselves, looking suitably nervous. Kassh began to pace back and forth in front of them, pointedly meeting each of their gazes individually. "Yet despite our difficulties, Xizor believes he can escape by selling our organizations out! By stealing our businesses and claiming to master traditions we have controlled for centuries! I am no traitor when compared with his great deceit."

"So long as the prince rules Black Sun, he has the Emperor's approval," Sekha said, playing coyly with the tip of one lekku. "Any retaliatory action against him would only bring the Empire to our doorstep that much faster. Even if we wished to oppose him, what could we hope to accomplish?"

He opened his mouth to retort. Before he could, someone else spoke for him.

"In the grand scheme of matters?” the new voice said. “Nothing."

Everyone in the room, Kassh included, turned to face the new speaker. He strode regally into the room, his lanky frame adorned in deep purple-black robes. Dark, silky hair was pulled back into a long braid that fell almost to the floor, shimmering blue-black in the dark light of the council room. Flanking him on either side were a pair of Ubese bodyguards and a single human female that served as his personal aide. All the newcomers were carrying weapons. All those already within the room were not.

"Noble Prince Xizor Sizhran," one of the Nikto said, bowing his head respectfully. "You grace us with your presence."

Xizor smiled, displaying yellowed, razor-sharp teeth. His mottled green skin cast strange shadows down his face, granting him an otherworldly and sinister air; knowing him, he probably enjoyed it that way.

Kassh shot the crime lord a glare and snapped, "Yes, oh great and mighty Prince. What would cause such a powerful and honorable businessbeing to debase yourself by appearing in our humble presence?"

The Falleen prince surveyed everyone in the room with a regal air and that same sharp-toothed smile, ignoring the Twi’lek’s remark. He spread his arms and stepped toward them.

"My friends,” he said in his calm, seductive drawl of a voice, “I have heard your concerns and found them to be moving and well-founded. Yet I am here to tell you that I became the greatest among you for a single, simple reason:  _because_ I allied myself with the Empire."

He folded his long-nailed, green-skinned hands calmly in front of him, a peaceful gesture meant to promote cooperation and passivity. Yet his dark, flashing eyes suggested his intentions were everything but peaceful. Kassh bristled at the sight.

Jabba, however, chuckled — a deep  _ho ho ho_  that was infamous throughout the underworld. " _Really? And what exactly does the Emperor contribute to Black Sun? Taxes? Inspections? Budgets?_ "

"Immunity," Xizor replied calmly. "While the Emperor does take a substantial percentage from our annual income, my forces have not run afoul of Imperial law for quite some time. My own podraces are progressing without incident and my weapon suppliers are well stocked with military-grade provisions. My operatives are free to maneuver with impunity, no longer confined to work from the shadows of the underworld. While he does require a show of loyalty from time to time, the Emperor knows how to keep his business partners happy."

"You joined forces with the Empire only months ago," Sekha pointed out. "How can you assume to predict the mind of the Emperor in so short a time?"

Xizor's scaly green-skinned face broke into a smile and his yellowish teeth glinted in the dim light. "Because the Emperor is at heart little more than a businessman, just as I am. Great minds thinking alike and all that."

Sekha’s smile grew, her eyes flashing dangerously. "And how long is this peace going to last? Until you become a liability?"

The Prince nodded, looking truly disappointed. "Unfortunately yes. But that is an eventuality I am willing to accept, and one I have planned for accordingly."

"And while you grow fat on your profits,” Kassh shook his head in disbelief, “what is left for the rest of us? I am sure I speak for everyone present when I say that we will  _not_ follow behind you to squabble over what crumbs you leave behind!"

"On the contrary…" Sekha suddenly murmured, as if she was speaking to herself more than anyone else, "an alliance with the Empire may not be such a horrid idea."

When Kassh whirled to fix her with a glare, she raised a thin eyebrow in challenge. Her previously playful, seductive tone was now thin and hard. The coy look in her eyes had vanished, leaving them cold and unwavering.

"You claim that the Empire is pushing hard on our profits," she said. "This is true. But the Empire has proved to be far more tolerant of certain illegal activities than the Republic that preceded it. Our contacts report that the Imperials have no compunctions about working with everything from low-level money launderers to bounty hunters like Boba Fett."

She gestured to the Falleen. "And look at our friend, the Prince. He has not been executed, but is wealthier than ever before. That alone should prove the Empire is not about to push us too hard. All we must do is show we approve of the new regime and do not seek to oppose the authority of the New Order."

Xizor spread his arms with a warm smile. "We all only seek to continue our businesses in peace. And I assure you the Emperor is more than willing to make concessions so long as he is treated with a proper show of loyalty."

"What? No!" Kassh growled and pointed at the Falleen prince. "This... this  _schutta_  is manipulating you! He wishes only to further his own power!"

He stepped forward, hands clenched into fists. “Shows of loyalty? Approval of the established regime? These are not the duties of a criminal organization, but the actions of a _slave_!”

The prince’s voice was dripping with condescension. "Kassh, my friend, you are a very cunning individual. But in this regard you are simply wrong. Now please step aside and allow more enlightened minds to converse."

The Twi’lek’s gaunt face twisted down in a deep scowl. He took a step towards Xizor, wanting very much to strike him. How dare this alien freak dismiss him so easily! He was not some petulant child to be brushed aside at the slightest provocation, confined to the shadows while the adults spoke business. He had every right to stand here with all the others!

Yet for all his rage, he barely managed a single step toward the Falleen. As soon as he moved, the Ubese bodyguards activated their crackling force pikes and the prince’s attendant swiftly placed herself between the Prince and his would-be attacker. Her hands were balled into fists and a dark scowl pulled at her beautiful features.

“Not a step further,” she growled. Kassh did not heed her warning.

She moved fast. Faster than he thought possible. Before he could begin to raise his hand to strike her, a deceptively hard fist sunk hard into his solar plexus and knocked all the breath from his lungs. He sputtered and fell to his knees in equal parts pain and shock, wheezing for air. The woman stepped back and planted her boot in his side, shoving him away and sending him sprawling, face-down, across the dirty floor.

He slid to a halt on the grimy tile with his head spinning, unable to do anything but let out a weak, pained groan and clutch at his stomach. Xizor watched him curl up on the filth-encrusted floor with a dispassionate sneer.

“My dear, deluded Twi’lek friend,” the prince cooed. “Better men than you have attempted violence against me. My loyal Guri always ensures they fail.”

There were quiet snickers around the table at the sight of their brash intruder so humbled by a thin human female like Guri. He looked up with streaming eyes and saw that Jabba was smiling contentedly, most of the Nikto were whispering to each other again, and — most important and painful of all — Sekha was staring at Xizor with unabashed admiration.

He narrowed his eyes, feeling the sting of the woman’s betrayal course through him in a crackling, white-hot wave. Yet his voice trembled weakly as he cried, "You are a fool, Sekha. You all are _fools_!"

Jabba laughed, the same thunderous  _ho ho ho_  echoing through the room. He shifted on his cushion and his thick, stubby tail twitched in amusement. "A _nd what do you plan to do about it? You already sponge credits off of us like a feeble desert rock leech. And here the rest of us sit, fat and rich while you squabble over what crumbs we leave behind. If we ally ourselves with the Emperor, what can you do to dissuade us?_ "

Kassh stood, fists clenched and shaking with rage. He fought to come up with something to say, something that would change their minds and reveal the green-skinned bastard for the treacherous snake he truly was. Something to feed the fire burning within him and validate his rage.

But at this crucial moment, his silver tongue failed him. No words came.

He stood, trembling, for a few moments longer. Then he silently turned and stormed out of the room. He could still hear the other crime lords whispering and snickering after him, even as the heavy blast door sealed once more.

When the Rodian guard stepped forward to return his weapons, Kassh punched him in his sucker-like mouth.

* * *

 Prince Xizor stared after the enraged gangster, scowling only slightly as the door slammed shut. Once he was sure the troublesome Twi’lek would cause no further disruption, he turned his attention back to the other residents of the room. A mass of multicolored eyes were watching, waiting for him to make the next move.

He easily plastered a calm smile onto his face and tucked his long-nailed hands into the folds of his sleeves. His air of superiority and grace effortlessly returned.

"Master Goran will sputter and argue as he always has," he said. “But his childish whimpering is not dissimilar from the opposition your own organizations will face if you choose to ally with me and the Empire.”

Sekha tilted her head. “You knew Kassh would oppose this alliance?”

“Of course. That is why I gave express orders for him to be allowed entrance.” Xizor gestured to the door. “Kassh represents the beings we control: arrogant, foolhardy, and far too enamored of themselves to see reason. I allowed him entrance to show you a better path.”

“ _A path that leads to the Empire_ ,” Rotta the Hutt rumbled.

The prince flashed the Hutt another of his sharp-toothed smiles. “As astute as always, Master Rotta. But hear me, I implore you: the Empire is not a threat. Weak-minded traditionalists like Kassh will oppose your decisions, but I promise you there is nothing to fear from the Emperor."

" _Who says we are afraid?_ " Jabba rumbled, settling deeper into his cushioned chair with a contented belch. A wrinkled three-fingered hand scratched at his underarm, then rested over his bloated belly. " _Kassh is the one who fears the Empire._ "

"Yes," Xizor sighed. His eyes narrowed. “Our outspoken Twi’lek friend has strong opinions on this matter. But he will not be a hindrance for much longer. You can trust me on that."

"It is amazing how often you use the phrase  _trust me_." Sekha let out a soft and delicate laugh he found quite pleasing to the ear. "My only question is  _can_ we truly trust you, Prince?"

"Give me a month," Xizor replied, bowing his head slightly in her direction. With Sekha, even an insincere show of deference went a long way. "One month and I will show you how simple it is to crush his kind of resistance. If he is not silenced by that time, then by all means follow his passionate and ill-advised example. You are free to pursue whichever path you find most appealing."

Sekha rubbed her chin with a single delicate fingertip. "Kassh holds no power over us. He can do only what he has already done: shout and stamp his feet. He is no threat, yet he still has his uses. Eliminating him may be... how do you say... overkill?"

"Nevertheless," the Falleen crime lord said, "his whimpering is an annoyance I will no longer tolerate. He proved a valuable example of the anti-Imperialism that hinders our businesses. But his organization has been leeching off our own for far too long, and now must be removed from play. I am sure you will agree."

Sekha simply shrugged. Xizor lowered his head in a deeper, more respectful bow, then moved forward to continue his speech with his bodyguards and the beautiful Guri at his side. This time, there were no more disgruntled murmurs interrupting him. And while he made his plea to the other crime lords, a plan began to take form in his mind.

Kassh Goran was an outspoken ronto, fighting for prominence in a much larger herd. There was nothing he could do to substantially influence the other organization leaders against Xizor; the Twi’lek’s infamous reputation for deceit and thievery hindered those plans. But should he find the manpower to back up his claims by force, he would be a threat not only to Xizor's plans but to the Emperor's as well.

Therefore, he had to be removed from play. Permanently.

The Twi’lek gangster was no pushover. He was intelligent and driven, with a mind for tactics many of his fellow crime lords lacked. If he was to be removed, his assassin would have to be very skilled indeed.

Thankfully, the prince already had someone in mind.


	2. Tarron's News

**Rame's farm, outside Keldabe, Mandalore**

Jay ducked a vicious swipe at her head and lunged forward, trying to ram her sword through her opponent's chest. He slammed her blade aside and backpedaled, ensuring he was safely out of reach. Her next slash sliced through empty air with a whistle, forcing her to yank her arm back close to her chest and recenter her balance.

"You hesitated." There was amusement in her opponent’s voice.

"I did not!" She jumped forward, aiming at his chest again.

Vhetin brought his rectangular shield down on her blade, pinning it to the corral floor with a jarring _clang_. He then stepped on it, keeping it held firmly in place. She yanked hard, but couldn’t dislodge the weapon from beneath his boot.

"You can't hesitate," he told her. "If you do, you only give your opponent that much more of a hold over you. Battles can be won or lost in seconds."

She barely let him finish speaking before she cocked her arm back and slammed her circular shield into the side of his helmet. It connected with a loud  _blang_ of crashing metal and he staggered away, clutching at his head. She didn’t press the attack, instead stepping back and lowering her weapons. Vhetin shook his head with a curse, then his T-visored gaze snapped back to her and a good-natured growl came over his vocoder. He hefted his sword and shield back up to shoulder level.

She grinned and pointed her sword at him, feeling sweat trickle down one cheek. "Don't  _talk_. If you do, you only give your opponent that much more time to think of how she'll hurt you next."

He spun his sword in his hand, crouching behind his shield as he approached her once again. As soon as he was close enough, he struck with the speed and grace of a Kashyyyk vine viper.

"Why do we,  _uh_ -" she grunted as she had to shift her footing to counter his advance and block his attack, "-have to fight with shields this time, anyway? Isn’t it a little archaic?"

"The usual reason: so you learn to adapt to combat that is-" he blocked a blow to his helmet and pushed her back a few steps, "-outside your comfort zone. To keep you on your toes."

"It's been a month since that Stunball match and that's still the best excuse you can come up with?" She almost fell when he hooked his leg out and tried to trip her. But he struck too late; she had plenty of time to twist the awkward fall into a somersault, coming back to her feet to whip around and slash down at his back. He pivoted his arm and swung his long rectangular shield over his shoulder, knocking her sword away before the blow could fall.

"It's just that-" she paused, frowning with concentration as she deflected his next flurry of attacks, "-you've had formal training in all these types of combat. So it gives you a bit of an unfair advantage-"

She was cut off as he suddenly crouched, striking out at her legs with his outstretched foot. She'd long since adapted to this move, however, and nimbly leaped over his feet.

He wasn’t finished just yet; he used his momentum to bring him up into a half-spin, leaping high into the air and slamming both heels into the middle of her chest in a powerful double-kick. Though she was protected by armor plating, the strength behind the blow winded her and sent her wildly off balance. She crashed to the ground with a clatter of armor plates and he followed her only a split-second later. Gravity still applied, even in the sparring ring.

The black-armored Mandalorian quickly clambered back up onto his feet, stepping back and giving her time to regain her composure and recover from the fall. He was panting hard and she could see sweat darkening the arms and chest of his flight suit. He was wearing a scaled-down set of armor to compensate for the hot weather and the extra weight of the heavy durasteel battle shield. Unlike usual armor, these suits had thinner fabric across the sleeves and sported lighter dueling gauntlets for increased maneuverability in battle. It was obviously stifling within his suit.

He stared at her through the menacing T-visor of his helmet, sheathing the sword and leaning on his waist-high shield while he caught his breath. "That's not true," he said. "I've rarely fought with a shield before. Not really my style."

"But-" she grunted and sat up onto her knees, holding her stomach. "But you're using that shield like a pro."

He rotated the shield in his hands, making the bulky piece of metal spin in front of him. "Improvisation," he replied, a smile in his voice. "All of this is made up on the fly."

"Improvisation, huh?" She shook a strand of sweaty hair out of her eyes as she stood straight again.

He nodded, his weapon and shield coming back up in preparation for round two.

"Then improvise against  _this_!” She charged for him again and their blades met with a bone-shaking clash.

* * *

The world raced by in a messy blur as Tarron blasted down the road on his old speeder bike, heading for Rame Omotao's farm. He had to tell Vhetin what he'd found before the lead got cold. His intel was already a day old and Force only knew how the Mandalorian would react if this target managed to escape before the hunt even began.

The grassgrain fields that surrounded the farm drifted into view around a small copse of trees, the farmhouse emerging just a short way beyond. He breathed a sigh of relief at the sight and pushed the engines even faster. The bike shot forward down the road with a _whoop_ of overcharged repulsor engines, kicking up thick clouds of dust as it went.

Ever since touching down on Mandalore he'd felt like time was slipping away like formless sand through his fingers. Everything — from disembarking to gearing up the bike to racing along the road — seemed to take far too long. Lives depended on him getting his information to Vhetin in a timely fashion. He just hoped luck was on his side.

He finally, _finally_ skidded to a halt in front of the farm, hopping off the bike as soon as the engines cycled down. But when the rattle of the repulsors finally died away, he could hear strange sounds breaking the newfound rural quiet. Clashing swords, grunts of exertion, and the scuffle of heavily-armored feet. Was someone fighting?

It didn’t take long to find the source of the noise: Vhetin was in the training corral around the back of the house, sparring with a young woman in light fencing armor. Both carried swords and shields in the manner of ancient Corellian gladiators, and both fought with barely-restrained ferocity that seemed almost too intense for a friendly sparring match.

Their duel was ruthless and furious, each combatant throwing everything they had into the fight. Even as Tarron watched, the Mandalorian spun and slashed with a blow that would take a normal man’s head off at the shoulders. The woman reacted fast, dropping to one knee, hunching her neck down out of the way, and blocking the attack with her circular shield. He could see her muscles strain and shake from the exertion of taking the blow. But her shield remained up and the blow glanced off the scuffed _beskar_ surface.

Who was this? He didn’t recognize the woman and she wasn’t any of the allies Vhetin usually trained with. Brianna was currently in Keldabe, gearing up for a contract on Belsavis; he'd spoken to her before heading to the farm. Janada was working on some new project up at MandalMotors. And Rame and Mia were out of town, hence the reason Vhetin was keeping an eye on their farm to begin with.

This other woman must be Vhetin's student, the one that had won the Stunball match a month before. He'd heard of her from conversations with Rame, but had never met her personally. From everything he’d heard, she was smart, skilled, and dedicated to her new profession. Seeing her duel now, he could understand why Omotao was so eager to praise her skills.

He quickly picked up his pace and made straight for the corral. This was certainly going to be an interesting conversation.

* * *

Jay jumped back as Vhetin slashed at her stomach, the razor-edged sword hissing through the air only centimeters from her gut. She brought her circular shield in front of her to hinder his advance, crouching behind it and giving her partner only a minute area at which to strike. Her next steps took her further back toward the fence line, away from the center of the arena. Her black-armored opponent followed, eager to trap her between his sword and the edge of the corral.

Little did he know, she was hoping he would follow her. As soon as she saw an opening, when his foot was planted awkwardly mid-step, she sprung her trap. She dropped her guard for a moment, hopping back and placing a foot on the bottom rung of the fence behind her. She pushed off with all her might, raising both sword and shield as she launched herself into the air to strike from above at his head and shoulders.

Vhetin had anticipated her acrobatic attack; she'd been drifting toward the fence for the entire duel, furtively glancing over her shoulder from time to time and no doubt hoping he didn’t notice. She had obviously been dying to try this new aerial move on him all day. So rather than dropping into a crouch to defend himself, he lowered his shield to waist-level and brought his sword up to counter her air kick.

The kick missed. Instead of striking true against the center of his chest, her ankle only grazed his ribcage and slipped beneath his arm. Her momentum carried her forward, sending her flying off-course with a shout of surprise. A second later she landed heavily on her back with a tremendous _crash_ , her shield wrenched her grip and her helmeted head cracking hard against the duracrete floor of the corral. The circular battle shield bounced and rolled to the edge of the dueling area, hit the fence, then fell over.

The duel was very clearly over. Vhetin took a step back and lowered his weapons, sheathing his sword back on his belt. On the ground, Jay groaned and held her throbbing head, letting out a muttered curse that was muffled by the confines of her helmet.

"Oh, kriff… that hurt…"

He let her stew for a few moments, taking the time to lean his rectangular shield up against the corral fence. When he was sure she was content to let the fight rest — for the moment at least — he knelt next to her and cocked his head, his hands on his thigh plates.

"I take it that didn't go as planned?"

She grimaced and pulled off her sparring helmet, letting it bounce away across the corral. Her long brown hair, messily yanked from the bun she’d tied it in before the fight, spilled out onto the arena floor. She fixed him with an accusatory squint, narrowing her eyes against the glare of the sun.

"Shut up. I kriffing had you."

He grinned behind his own helmet and offered her a hand, which she accepted with a disgruntled huff. She wobbled for a moment when he hauled her back to her feet, then limped over to the corral fence and leaned against it, allowing it to carry her weight. She rested her hands on her knees and shook her head, her hair flying wild in the gentle summer breeze.

"Damn...” she sighed. “That attack worked so well when I was practicing. I managed to knock over the sparring dummy at least four times."

He picked up her fallen shield and handed it back to her. "In your defense, if that move had worked, it would have kicked ass. I never knew you moonlighted as a gymnast."

She scoffed and accepted the shield, propping it against the fence next to her. "Just trying to compensate for the fact that you seem to be some kind of superhero. How can you jump that high from a dead stop, anyway?"

She narrowed her eyes. "You  _are_  a superhero, aren't you?"

"I keep telling you, no. Though the image is intriguing now that you mention it. I look pretty good in a cape, you know."

She grunted and wiped at her forehead with her forearm. The fabric of her combat suit came away dark with sweat. “If you say so. But if you expect me to start calling you _Super-Cin_ , you’re sorely mistaken.”

A deep laugh from the edge of the corral drew their attention. Vhetin turned and almost instantly found himself smiling.

A man was leaning up against the corral fence, one arm thrown casually over the cross-bar and his legs folded over each other. He sported dark brown body armor, similar to Mandalorian gear but definitely not of Mando make. A single-sheet chest plate stretched across his chest and he sported segmented arm guards that stretched from shoulder to wrist. Tucked under his belt was a decorative red sash drape, symbolizing his role as a Journeyman Protector.

Vhetin nodded to him in greeting, bowing his head and saying, “ _Cuy, vod._ Welcome back to _Manda_ _’yaim_. It’s been a while.”

The man’s smile grew wider as he ducked into the sparring corral and approached them, spreading his hands in greeting. "Your reputation for generosity and hospitality is fast becoming the stuff of local legend, Cin. I've heard that on Nar Shadda, those running from Imperial law have plans to seek you out directly for sanctuary."

With a friendly chuckle, he clasped Vhetin's forearm in a firm Mandalorian handshake. Vhetin shook back and smiled, though he knew the man couldn't see it, hidden as it was behind his battle helmet. "And what makes you say that?"

"Well, it's hardly befitting a bounty hunter." The man gestured to Jay. "You've brought home another stray, haven't you?"

Vhetin shrugged. "What can I say? I apparently can't help but rescue damsels in distress."

Jay scoffed. "Watch who you're calling  _damsel_ , Vhetin."

He motioned for his partner to step closer. "Jay, I'd like you to meet Tarron Matele, a Journeyman Protector, freelance bodyguard, and an old friend of mine. Tarron, this is Jay Kolta, my… apprentice, for lack of a better term."

Jay smiled and shook the man’s hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Matele."

Vhetin leaned against the fence and folded his arms across his chest, grateful to take a break from sparring in the sweltering heat of Mandalore’s sun. "So what brings you all the way from Hapes? Did the Queen Mother get tired of your company already?"

Tarron's grin didn't fade. "She's a wonderful woman. But as a freelance bodyguard and a  _hired_ one at that, I grew a little tired of... female condescension, shall we say?"

Vhetin more than understood; Hapes was a planet where the government was controlled by women, while the men were a subordinate class relegated to little more than slave labor. Vhetin had always found the citizens of the Consortium to be downright hostile toward him and his role as a warrior (traditionally a female profession in their culture), and so usually steered clear of the entire sector. How Tarron had managed to cultivate such a healthy friendship with the women in power was beyond him.

"So what brings you to Mandalore?" Jay asked, leaning on her shield and tying her sweaty hair back in a loose ponytail. “I doubt it was just for a vacation.”

Tarron's seemingly unstoppable grin finally faded. His gaze fell to his boots, and he suddenly looked very tired and worried. “No, I’m afraid I’m here on business. Vhetin, I need to speak to you. Urgently.”

"Of course," Vhetin said with a concerned frown. It was unusual for Tarron to act this way. The man was usually full of boundless humor and energy. "What's wrong?"

Tarron glanced around, as if suddenly self-conscious of his surroundings. "Can we step inside?"

"Rame and Mia are down on the other side of the planet for the day while Jay and I look after the farm. I'm sure they won't mind if we commandeer the kitchen to get out of the sun for a bit."

As they made their way to the small farmhouse, Tarron kept his eyes on his armored boots. "Vhetin... I'm not usually one to give advice. Hell, I usually just take my finder's fee and move on. But just once, I'm going to give you my opinion."

_What is all this about?_ Vhetin wondered.  _I haven't seen Tarron this worried since..._

Then the pieces clicked into place.  _Not since_   _the last Kassh contract_.

He held the door open for the other two. As they all headed into the kitchen, he followed close behind, one hand clenched into a tight fist. "All right,” he said, unable to keep a terse note from entering his voice. “We're inside. Now what's got you so worked up?"

"You haven't already guessed?" Tarron said, anxiety apparent in his tone as he sat down at the table in the kitchen. He rubbed his wide, lined face and released a deep, weary sigh. "I'm surprised someone else hasn't brought this to your attention already."

"The Kassh contract has come up again, hasn't it?"

Jay looked between the two hunters as she settled into the seat across from Tarron, obviously unable to control her curiosity. "What are you two talking about? What's the Kassh contract?"

Vhetin, meanwhile, had a thousand thoughts racing through his head.  _What's he done this time? Where is he hiding now? What kinds of weapons will I need? Is Jay ready for her first real mission?_

Tarron glanced up at him, watching intently through a curtain of shaggy, dirty blond hair. "You know, they haven't asked for you specifically yet. My advice is for you to leave this alone or kick it along to one of your other hunter friends. You've brought him in enough times and been paid bloody well for it. No one would blame you if you decided to pass this one up."

"Who is Kassh?" Jay demanded, finally beginning to sound frustrated. "What are you talking about?"

Vhetin sat down and rested his arms on the table. "Kassh has to be the closest thing I have to a mortal nemesis. I've chased and hunted that  _di'kut_  so many times that I've lost track of how many planets I've been to looking for him. And every time I bring him in, some idiot slips up and lets him escape again."

He began counting off on his fingers. "He's wanted by the Empire, the Chiss Ascendancy, the criminal underworld, and many others. But no one can keep him imprisoned for long."

Tarron’s eyes were tired and anxious. "He's too smart for the dumb guards his captors keep throwing on him. Vhetin's brought him in four times on behalf of Black Sun alone."

"Kassh..." Jay said, frowning thoughtfully. "That name sounds familiar all of a sudden."

"Does the name Midnight Ultraviolet ring a bell?" Vhetin asked. Even though frustration and anger were dominating his mind, there was still a learning experience here for her. She needed to learn to piece together information, especially when her instincts were telling her it was important.

"Midnight Ultraviolet..." His partner’s eyes lit up with recognition. "Wait, I  _do_  know that name. That's that Coruscant crime ring from back during the Clone Wars. I remember seeing reports that Republic Internal Security was trying to weed out their drug rings right before the Battle of Coruscant. Apparently they were Separatist sympathizers or something."

Tarron nodded. "Good memory. But that's just the tip of the iceberg."

"You see," Vhetin said, turning to face her, "at the beginning of the Wars, Jabba the Hutt was still expanding his criminal empire beyond the Outer Rim and into Republic space. To help him, he reached out to a trusted Twi'lek enforcer named Kassh Gorran. They worked well together, but after a while Kassh got used to being in power. He grew a little too big for his space boots."

Tarron picked up the story. "He tried to double-cross Jabba and hired an assassin to take the slug down. But Jabba's security stopped the assassin and it was revealed that Kassh was moving in on Jabba's holdings. Kassh was banished from Jabba's territory and chased all the way from the Outer Rim to the Core Worlds. But not before Kassh got his hands on some sixteen million of Jabba's hard-earned credits."

Vhetin snorted. "I wouldn't call it hard-earned, but I agree with the rest."

"Jabba put a ten thousand credit bounty on Kassh's head as payback," Tarron continued, "but no one was wily enough to get him. For almost twenty years this guy's been on the run, in and out of custody. And every time he comes back, that bounty gets bigger and bigger."

"Until now, when it's running at about one hundred thousand credits strong," Vhetin finished. “But only for someone who can catch him _and_ keep him caught.”

Jay frowned, pondering the information. "If the bounty is that big, why hasn't someone like Boba Fett gone after him?"

"Fett doesn't do revenge bounties," Vhetin said. "Not even if there’s a hundred k waiting at the end. And to be honest, he's the best chance of bringing the guy in for good."

"So, naturally," Tarron said with a hint of his earlier grin, "they turned to Vhetin to get the job done. Being one of many  _almost_  legendary bounty hunters in the galaxy does have its perks."

"So… just how long have you been hunting this guy?"

"Four years," the Mandalorian replied with an exasperated sigh, "and counting, apparently."

"My contacts say that Kassh is on Coruscant in the underworld of the entertainment district, and he's got a score to settle with Prince Xizor," Tarron reported. "From what I've heard, no other hunters have his scent yet. If you want to go after him, now’s your best chance."

"And Xizor posted this bounty?"

The Journeyman Protector nodded. "On behalf of Jabba the Hutt of course. Kassh has been a thorn in Jabba's side for decades and the fat slug is all but hopping up and down at the prospect of removing the Twi’lek’s head. But it's no secret Xizor wants him dead too."

"So Xizor keeps his hands clean,” Jay murmured, rubbing her chin, “but still gets what he wants. And Jabba is grateful to Xizor for finally getting the job done."

"Of course,” Vhetin said. “That way, Jabba owes Xizor a favor. It’s just good business.”

After a moment, he suddenly clapped his hands together and stood from his seat. "Jay, pack your things. We're heading out."

"What?"

He nodded at Tarron. "You heard the man: there are a hundred thousand credits out there waiting to be claimed. And I think we're just the ones to get the job done. We need to follow this up before someone else decides to join in the fun."

Jay didn't move, glancing sharply between Tarron and her partner. "A-are you sure about this? I mean, I haven't finished my training yet. We just got finished with the heavy weapons training and we still haven't gotten to talking through techniques about—"

"You're ready," Vhetin interrupted, a reassuring tone in his voice. "Trust me. I'm not as bad a teacher as most might think."

Jay stared down at her clasped hands, obviously still uncertain. He noticed her discomfort and put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up when he squeezed gently, anxiety pulling at her features.

"It'll be okay,” he told her. “Just get your gear ready. I'll be with you in a minute."

She took a deep breath and muttered, "I hope you know what you're doing," then stepped away and disappeared into the other room to gather her small amount of belongings. As soon as she was gone, Vhetin turned back to the table and rubbed absently at the forehead of his helmet, forgetting about the barriers that separated his fingertips from his skin. A hundred thousand credit reward was certainly enticing, but he was far from excited at the prospect of chasing Kassh down again. The Twi’lek gangster was dangerous, and he had a knack for laying traps and manipulating his opponents from half a galaxy away. He was devious and had long-reaching plans for his organization. Vhetin didn’t like that kind of forward thinking in his targets.

Tarron was alternating between staring at the black-armored Mandalorian and pretending to be engrossed with the wooden patterns of the tabletop. Eventually he cleared his throat and spoke up.

“She seems nice,” he noted. “Jay, I mean. A little young for this line of work. But nice.”

“She’s the same age as me,” Vhetin said. “Give or take a year or two.”

“True. But you’re _Mandalorian_. That comes with a completely different set of rules.” Tarron watched him for a few moments before speaking again. This time, he said what was truly on his mind — there was no need to dance around the matter that was plaguing them all.

"If you go out there,” the Journeyman Protector said, “you'll have to face down Kassh's entire gang. Even with a new partner, it's next to impossible."

"I've brought him in before. And I was alone all those times. Now I have Jay to watch my back. I'll be fine."

"Kassh knows your technique," Tarron pressed, his voice a low murmur. "He won't fall for your previous tricks. He's smarter and deadlier than ever."

Vhetin folded his arms across his chest. "Well he's yet to find out about Jay. So I say we have a better-than-none chance at claiming that bounty. Sometimes, the element of surprise is all you need."

"You put too much faith in me, Vhetin." Jay shook her head as she entered the room again, holstering the pistol she'd won the month before. "I'm still a rookie, remember? I've never even gone on an actual mission yet. I hope you aren't pinning all your hopes on me like you did in that Stunball match."

"You  _won_  that match, remember? You'll be fine, just as long as you don’t forget your training."

She rested her hands on her hips and cocked her head. "So... who'll watch after the farm while we're gone? This lead won't last forever."

"I can watch after this place until Rame and Mia get back,” Tarron easily volunteered. “They’ll be glad to see me after so long, and I'll tell them where you're headed and why. I can also stay on standby in case you need more information out there."

He stood and held out a hand. "Good luck, Vhetin."

"Thanks," Vhetin said. He slowly shook the offered hand. "But I’ve learned not to rely on luck."


	3. Setting Out

A half-hour later and they were blasting their way out of the planet's atmosphere, Vhetin’s ship shivering angrily as the space outside the cockpit glowed red-hot. The shields flared to protect the bulkheads, blurring the scene of black space outside. The deck rattled and the interior lights flashed red to warn of deflector damage. Vhetin was pushing the engines harder than necessary, obviously eager to tunnel out of atmo and get underway.

Jay tightened her hold on the copilot's seat armrests. She'd always hated ground-to-space takeoffs, even when she'd been in the Navy. One of the first safety films she'd seen while training was a mini-documentary on how many things could go wrong while the ship passed through planetary atmospheres. The different explosions shown in the vid still haunted her to this day.

_Just put me in a Star Destroyer's hangar bay_ , she thought,  _behind the stick of a TIE Interceptor, and I'll be just fine. I can do vacuum flights with my eyes closed. But this is too bumpy a ride for my tastes._

She let out a sigh of relief as the space outside  _Void_  dulled and she finally saw the vast expanse of stars glimmering in the infinite distance. It was currently the weekend planetside, so the usual mess of ships flying to and from the planet was subdued and sluggish; no one really wanted to go anywhere, and there was much work to be done dirtside.

But despite the lazy atmosphere, the sharp, angular Star Destroyer  _Indomitable_  was still orbiting the planet, posted to Mandalore for a month more till the end of their mid-rim patrol assignment. The sight of the giant Imperial dreadnought still sent a tingle of fear through Jay’s system; she was still a fugitive from Imperial forces, after all.

Vhetin was obviously just as displeased with the Destroyer as she was. He cursed quietly as they passed by the huge capital ship. The cruiser’s bulk cast them into shadow, blocking the light from Mandalore’s sun. "Hold on. I have to sign in with the Imps. Keep your head down; we don't want any passing TIE pilots to see you through the cockpit viewport."

She nodded and hunched her head low over the command console, covering her head with both hands in what had become an almost second-nature tradition. If she was lucky, the dimmed lights of the cockpit would blend with her dark jacket and keep her hidden from any unfriendly eyes within visual distance. She noticed how Vhetin had polarized the viewport, dimming it to a near-solid shade of black just in case.

Her partner punched the blue intercom button to send out a hailing channel. " _Indomitable_  Space Command,” he said, “this is freelance transport  _Void_ , requesting hyperspace clearance along sector Grek-eight-nine-nine-four. The destination is Triple Zero, Imperial City."

" _Roger_ ,  _Void._ " the Space Command officer oversaw incoming and outgoing ships as long as the  _Indomitable_ was in orbit and as a result he'd grown to relish the power he'd been given.  _Ori'buyce, kih'kovid,_ as a Mandalorian would say – all helmet, no head _._ " _What is the nature of your current departure from the Mandalore sector?"_

He wasn’t technically supposed to ask; that question was usually left to the customs agents at their destination. But Vhetin played along, not wanting to start any trouble just yet, and responded with his usual reply. "Private investigations and personnel requisition. Got a contract to fulfill."

_"Roger,_ Void." There was a pause over the comm, then the Space Command officer said, " _Preliminary scans are showing two life forms aboard your ship. Who is your copilot?_ "

Jay's heart nearly froze, her mind instantly filled with images of stormtroopers boarding the ship and taking her back to prison and a quick execution. But Vhetin quickly replied, "No copilot. Just an old strill tagging along in the back. You wouldn't believe the smell."

The officer was silent, and nothing but a hiss of static filtered over the comm. Jay glanced over at her partner, her hands still covering her head, and mouthed,  _Strill_? He shrugged and motioned for her to stay down.

After a few long moment, the officer came back with a message. "Void _, you are cleared for hyperspace travel. Proceed to escort point Besh-Echo-nineteen, and make the jump. Any deviation_ -"

"-and we will be fired upon, yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before," Vhetin interrupted. He signed off the comm and took the controls as two TIE fighters swooped in to escort them. The pod-like starships screeched ahead of them, leading them to the predetermined hyperspace lane. Vhetin shook his head at the sight of the TIEs and muttered, "Karking babysitters."

Jay was still staring at him, eyebrows raised. "Seriously? A whole galaxy full of excuses and you decide to call me a  _strill_?"

He let out a dry chuckle as he guided the ship to the hyperlane entry point. "My other idea was telling them I had a Twi'lek passenger. But if I'd said there was a Twi'lek onboard, the troops would definitely board us to get a look at her. At least the threat of the smell warded them off."

"But a  _strill_?"

"Look, they left us alone so my little trick worked. A few more months and you won't have to worry about them at all, and I won't have to make up stupid excuses on your behalf. Just keep your head down so the pilots don't see you and prepare for lightspeed."

The TIE fighter escort swiveled around and roared past them, heading back for the _Indomitable_ as the freelance ship reached the jump point. Vhetin turned control over to the automated navicomputer and  _Void_  rotated to match up with the hyperlane’s coordinates. Then the Mandalorian pulled back a lever and the stars blurred to streaks. With a detonation of blinding white light,  _Void_  shot forward and everything morphed into the whirling tunnel of hyperspace.

* * *

**Kassh's hideout, Imperial City**

Kassh was pacing back and forth through the cramped, dirty supply room that served as his personal quarters while he was staying on Coruscant. Formerly a hastily-converted storage bay, the room was currently packed with sealed durasteel crates carrying all manner of illicit materials: weapons, engspice, stolen Alderaanian artwork, contraband engineering materials, and countless other trinkets. It was very literally worth a not-so-small fortune.

A reptilian akk hound was currently sniffing around the crates, searching for items of interest. It shuffled its nose along the edge of a storage container, then looked up at Kassh and barked; a retching  _akk akk_  sound that made his lips curl in a disgusted grimace.

His idiot brother Killik looked up with wild eyes, his attention drawn to the sound. "Huh? Akkie smell something?"

With a sigh, Kassh kicked the beast aside and inspected the crate the hound had found so fascinating. With a wrench, he yanked the lid free and let it clatter carelessly to the floor beside him. As the akk hound ruffled its scales and continued its perusal of the room, Kassh found something very interesting indeed hidden within the durasteel box.

Laying coated in flexifoam was a long, black cylinder with a ridged handgrip and glowing status lights scattered around the shaft. Its housing was polished to a near-spotless sheen, though the heat warping near the emitter suggested the device was in fact _very_ old. Inside was a hastily-scrawled note: _The Force chooses the wielder. Let this blade travel where it may._

Hearing Kassh's reverent intake of breath, Killik scurried over and peered inside, clasping the edge of the crate with his twin mechanical hands. His nose and lekku twitched simultaneously. "What that? Akkie bark at stupid glowlight?"

Kassh shoved his neurotic brother away. "This isn't a glowlight you idiot."

Killik sniffed. "Look like a glowlight."

"No," Kassh said quietly as he lifted the device out of the flexifoam with fingers that were almost trembling with excitement. The polished chromium metal was cool to the touch, and seemed to carry an almost electric current. "This is far, far more important. This, my dear idiot brother, is a lightsaber."

"Lightsaber? That don't work like glowlight."

Kassh sighed and flexed his hand around the hilt of the weapon.  _The scum I must put up with these days..._

Killik sighed, flung himself down on one of the cots in the corner, and put his mechanical arms behind his head. "Stupid glowlight. If we had one, we maybe be able to see in here. What use is lightsaber?"

Kassh suddenly whirled and slashed at his brother. The lightsaber kicked in his hands and a pulsing green bar of light sprang to life with a loud _crackle-hiss._ The blade hit the wall only inches from the Twi'lek's brainless skull, sizzling and melting the duracrete in a long red-hot slash before Kassh yanked it away.

Killik scrambled away from the blade and fell onto the floor with a grunt. His eyes were as wide as training remotes as he sputtered, "Light... l-light... glowlight  _dangerous_."

Kassh felt a smile play across his lips, illuminated with emerald light by the saber’s pulsing blade. "Yes... yes, glowlight  _very dangerous._ "

He thumbed the deactivation stud and hooked the weapon to his belt, enjoying the steady weight of the blade on his hip. It almost seemed to give him authority, making his chest swell with pride and his walk become more of a swagger. "This beauty isn't for the black market. This is going to stay with me."

"Gotta pay for it."

Kassh debated whether to attack his brother again and  _not_ miss this time. But the last thing he needed was a dead body gumming up the works, even if it was someone as worthless as his brother. So he kept his hand away from the weapon and silently walked for the door. The akk hound was now curled up and slumbering near the entrance, its scaly red nose twitching as it snored. He made sure to kick it again on his way out.

No sooner had he exited the door than someone else accosted him. But this time it wasn’t his idiot brother or his infernal reptilian pet; this being was almost twice Kassh’s size and encased from head to toe in gunmetal gray assault armor. The being’s very footsteps seemed to shake the ground underfoot as he deliberately lumbered into Kassh’s path, blocking the entire four-meter-high door. His dirty and burned armor, specifically designed to support his massive frame, sported more weapons than any normal mercenary could hope to carry.

"Durge," Kassh greeted him.

"Sir," Durge boomed, clenching a huge fist larger than Kassh’s head. The alien’s armored helmet and full-face breath mask made his voice echo, giving a slightly metallic tinge to the sound. "Rumors have surfaced that Prince Xizor and Jabba the Hutt have posted a bounty for your capture. A  _large_  bounty."

Kassh nodded, unsurprised, and slipped around the huge bounty hunter. "As expected. Xizor believes me a threat. By eliminating me, he silences the only viable voice of resistance among the galaxy's crime lords."

Durge turned around with three huge footsteps that shook dust from the ceiling. "Other reports claim the bounty has already been taken up by Cin Vhetin. A  _Mandalorian._ "

That made Kassh pause. "Vhetin? How does he know so quickly?"

With a creaking shrug, Durge growled, "Who cares? Hyperspace transit records show that he left Mandalore this morning, headed for Coruscant. He is coming for you."

Kassh stroked his chin as he left the room, moving down the hallway. With huge pounding footsteps Durge followed. His dirty gray-purple armor glinted in the darkness and made him look every bit the monster he truly was. The eye-slits in his helmet glowed red, only hinting at the beast that lurked beneath his contoured mask.

"I could take care of him. I could shoot down his ship before he ever got close to finding this place."

Kassh shook his head. "It's too public. The only way I can win over the hearts of the other crime lords is by convincing them Xizor is the true threat, not me. I can't let it seem like I'm afraid."

Durge growled in frustration. The noise thundered within his helmet like the snarl of a predatory Rock-lion. "Then what? Just let him track you down?"

Kassh shook his head. The stump of his severed lekku slapped against the back of his neck. "No. I will leave the planet and retreat to our base on Tatooine."

"Run away?" Durge sounded incredulous. "From a Mandalorian _?_  That will only cause more harm. It will make you look more than just afraid. It will make you look like a  _coward_."

"I will  _leave_ ," Kassh repeated forcefully. Sometimes it was best to deal with his hired help as if they had suffered a debilitating brain injury. "Vhetin is too clever. He will find this place. But when he does, you will be here to stop him.  _Permanently._ "

"Nothing would please me more," Durge rumbled. "But if we strike now, if we wipe his filthy existence from the galaxy..."

" _That_  is what could only cause more harm than good," Kassh snapped. "If the other crime lords believe me to be afraid of a single bounty hunter, even one with whom I share such a long and  _colorful_  history... they will immediately know that I can be intimidated, and therefore, I cannot be trusted."

He turned to the tank-like bounty hunter and folded his arms across his chest. "But if you manage to kill this hunter here, it will be an effective act of self-defense. And if I am off-planet, on an unrelated business trip, it will only make Xizor's lackeys seem all the more incompetent."

Durge grunted.

"You will wait here," Kassh continued, "and you will  _stay_  here until Vhetin discovers this place. Then I want you to kill him. Slowly. Painfully. I want you to make absolutely sure that he will  _never_  ruin our plans again. I want you to make him cry for mercy, make him scream for the mother that brought him squealing into this galaxy, and then I want you to crush his skull against the bottom of your boots."

The hulking mercenary stared at him for a moment, then began to let out a series of deep rumbling laughs. His hidden eyes blazed with fire. "It would be my pleasure."

"Good. Contact me when the deed is done."

Durge nodded, momentarily satisfied, and Kassh strode into the next room, heading for the balcony that overlooked Coruscant’s smoggy industrial district. The Gen'dai stared after him for a moment, then stomped off towards another area of the base.

Vhetin was persistent, Kassh could give him that. But he was also predictable and relentless as a kath hound. The bounty hunter would gallivant across Coruscant, hoping to track him down and fight him in a one-on-one brawl. He would do a good job, of course, and no doubt track him to this very base. Little would he know that he would be walking straight into his prey's trap.

_The hunter becoming the hunted_ , Kassh thought.  _Poetic justice indeed._

* * *

**Freelance Transport _Void_ , exact coordinates unknown, hyperspace tunnel en route to Coruscant**

"By the time we get there he'll be long gone?" Jay asked. "What do you mean? Why are we even going to Coruscant, then?"

Vhetin tapped a series of buttons to put the sublight drives into stasis mode. "I mean that Kassh will know we're coming before we even reach the planet. He has too many contacts. Too many mouths whispering to him all across the galaxy."

"So what're we going to do? If he's already left-"

"We're going to do the same thing as if he was still there," Vhetin said quietly. "We're going to talk to people. Gather information. But instead of asking where he  _is_ , we're going to find someone who knows where he  _went_. Everyone, even gangsters, leave a trail that can be followed."

"And what if he stays on Coruscant just to slip you up?"

Vhetin chuckled. "I think you're overestimating the criminal mind, even one as slippery as Kassh’s. Trust me, he thinks he's a step ahead, which works right to our advantage."

"So we're just going to try and find where he was staying on Coruscant and then track down what planet he disappeared to? In a galaxy this big, that's a pretty long list."

"I never said bounty hunting was quick or easy."

Jay folded her arms and sat back in the copilot's seat, staring absently at the control panel. She tried again to force down the nervousness that rose in her gut at the thought that she was actually hunting down her first bounty. What if she screwed up? What if she was  _shot_? Maybe she would have the chance to catch this Kassh character and she would lose him!

She shook her head, hoping to clear it. If there was anything she remembered from her past training with Vhetin, it was that distraction equaled death. If she had her mind fixated on the long list of potential pitfalls, she could run the risk of overlooking critical clues that might keep her alive. She had to be on the top of her game both physically and mentally.

Vhetin transferred the ship's controls to the navicomputer and sat back, putting his hands behind his helmeted head. He put his boots up on the edge of the command console, careful not to accidentally press any buttons. If Jay didn’t know better, she would have thought he was trying to doze off.

She frowned at him and cocked her head. "You seem pretty calm about all this. Why?"

He shrugged and didn’t shift from his position. "There's no reason to be worried. Nothing’s happened yet."

"You're the only one here with that mindset." Jay let out an anxious sigh and rubbed her hands together, staring down at her boots.

Her partner shrugged again. "This is pretty simple as far as bounty missions go: find the guy, capture the guy, then deliver the guy to another guy. Many hunters would kill for a contract as straightforward as this. You will too before long."

"It may look easy from where you're sitting-"

"I never said easy," Vhetin interrupted, glancing over at her. His helmeted head tilted slightly as he regarded her with his hidden gaze. "When we get down on the ground, I'll be just as tense as you are. But right now it does me no good. So I don't bother with it."

"You just... don't pay attention to it?"

He nodded. "It does you no good to worry about things over which you have no control. A hunter needs to learn to pick his battles, control what he can, and adapt to what he can’t."

He returned to his earlier position, his helmet tilted down toward his chest. “Kassh can’t hurt us while we’re in transit. And we can’t do anything to harm him. So we might as well relax while we can. It does me no good to worry now, so I just don’t.”

Jay sat back in her seat, running a hand through her hair as she thought over his words. He simply chose not to feel nervous? Ignored all the same butterflies that were roiling in Jay's stomach? That would explain his continuous ice-cold attitude; in this line of work, the ability to ignore human emotion was probably very helpful.

But it was also dangerous. Sure, it would help in times like this, when her nervousness was eating away at her, but what about after that? What if it became an unconscious habit, consuming every emotion until...

She glanced over at Vhetin again, cautiously now. This was a side of her friend and mentor that she didn't really want to see. Could he really throw aside his emotions as easily as a spent blaster clip and choose to feel nothing at all? Perhaps that was why he'd been able to shoot her at point-blank range without batting an eyelid during that first sparring match, seemingly a lifetime ago.

She shook her head again and thought, _Now isn_ _’t the time for this_. She had bigger things to worry about than the emotional state of her clearly untroubled partner. She had to stay focused on the task at hand, keep her head, or else…

She licked her suddenly-dry lips and cleared her throat. "I'll, uh… I'll catch up with you later, Cin. I'm going to get some sleep before we arrive."

“Good idea.” He nodded absently and shot her a lazy salute. "I'll wake you when we get to Coruscant. Sleep well."

She stood and left the cockpit, heading back toward the sleeping quarters where she would have a quiet place to think. With a glance over her shoulder, she keyed open the door to her room and slipped inside. As soon as the door slid shut, she ran her hands through her hair and let her feet carry her anxiously back and forth across the cramped room.

She wished that she'd had more time to train before she'd been thrown into all this. Everything was happening too fast for her comfort. Barely a month had passed since that Stunball match, and she was already marching into a live-fire mission! And hunting down a deadly gangster, no less?

_I guess_ , she thought to herself, _it's just working outside my comfort zone._   _Again._

She sighed and sat down on the edge of a cot, pulling her pistol from its holster and staring at it. Looking at it, she felt a small sense of comfort wash through her like a gentle, warm wave. It was a tiny grain of certainty that eased her nerves the slightest bit.

This pistol meant that she  _was_  ready. A month ago, she had been plunged into a situation she hadn't been prepared for, yet somehow – miraculously – she'd come out on top. She had beaten the odds once, and she could do it again. She could come out on top of this as well and prove to Vhetin and everyone else that she _could_ make it as a bounty hunter.

Still, she couldn’t help but gulp and add, _I hope_.

She tried to get some sleep, but found herself tossing and turning aimlessly for the better part of an hour. The usual nightmares of Corulag and the events that took place there were thankfully absent, replaced now by fitful daydreams of losing her target and facing down an angry and disappointed Cin Vhetin. The image alone made her guts clench with shame and anxiety.

It was only when the ship around her suddenly jerked and decelerated that she sat up in her cot again. She glanced around her sparse quarters in confusion, eyes falling on the chronometer on the wall: only an hour and a half had passed since she had left the cockpit. Were they there already?

She stood and headed for the door to her room. It slid open before she got there and her partner stood in the doorway.

"I need you up in the cockpit," he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "We've got a hit."

"What?"

"We had to temporarily drop out of hyperspace." He gestured for her to follow. "I just now got a message from one of my contacts on Coruscant. He sent me a location where someone sighted Kassh just a few days ago. We're heading there as we speak."

Jay nodded, taking a deep, calming breath. She strapped her gun back to her hip and set off after her partner, feeling the tingling sensation of adrenaline coursing through her veins. A hazy sense of disbelief came over her as she settled into her seat in the cockpit and waited for Vhetin to brief her on what he’d learned.

_This is it_ , she thought. _No turning back now._


	4. Welcome to the Underworld

**Brimstone Tapcaf, Imperial City**

Vhetin surveyed the shabby outside of the Brimstone Tapcaf and hooked his thumbs into his belt. The deep bass thump of muffled music filtered out through the entryway, which was lit with dull, flickering red lights. A host of humans, aliens, and even droids were milling about outside, talking or drinking or even fighting. It was a scene more suited for the Outer Rim colonies than the capital world of the entire galaxy.

As he and Jay disembarked from their speeder taxi, a burly Gammorean bouncer had hurled a horned Zabrak man head-first through the door, sending him crashing into a stack of waste bins and spilling their contents over the duracrete ground. A trio of chattering monkey-lizards quickly swarmed over the inebriated man, snatching anything of value — including his credit pouch — and quickly scurried off into the dark.

Normally a patrol of stormtroopers or Coruscant Security officers would be patrolling such a rowdy area, keeping a careful eye on proceedings and ensuring things didn’t get too out of hand. But they were strangely absent, and had been since they had set off into the undercity; it was clear the Imperials didn’t bother trying to wrangle the locals here. Vhetin couldn’t blame them.

"I should have known,” he muttered, shaking his head at the sight. “Twice I've caught word of Kassh skulking around in here. I think he's attracted to the strobe lights."

Jay frowned as she too observed the cantina. “Something tells me this place isn’t quite as friendly as the _Oyu_ _’baat_ back on Mandalore. You think their drinks are any better?”

Vhetin shrugged and set off toward the building. “They can’t be any _worse_ , that’s for sure.”

Jay giggled despite the nervous worm crawling in her gut. “Don’t let Aramis catch you saying that.”

Her partner placed a single finger to his helmet, over where his lips would be. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

As they entered the small entry tunnel that led into the cantina, however, Vhetin brought his partner to a halt. He glanced over his shoulder, then leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Watch your back in here. It can get a little rough, and the locals aren't too welcoming to outsiders. We’re trying to keep a low profile; the longer we can operate without Kassh knowing we’ve hit the ground, the closer we can get to him without a fight."

Jay nodded and casually placed a hand on her pistol, making sure it was well within view of any who might want to mess with her. “I understand.”

“Good.” Her partner leaned back and adopted a calmer, more conversational tone for anyone who may have been listening in. “Just mind your manners and we’ll be through with this waste heap before you know it.”

A second later the entry door slid open with a hiss, revealing a dark bar floor lit intermittently with strobe lights and a stage where several performers – human and otherwise – were playing eerie, otherworldly music. The building was crowded with all manner of beings, from humans to Trandoshans to aliens Jay had never seen before. It would certainly be easy to keep a low profile inside; disappearing within the crowd would be as easy as taking a single step in a particular direction.

"Let's split up," Vhetin said, raising his voice to be heard over the music. "I'm going to talk to my contact. Keep an eye out for me."

"Just don't take too long,” she replied as they split up. “This place creeps me out already."

Vhetin nodded and melted into the throngs of people, drifting towards the back of the crowded cantina and the bar set up there. Jay headed the other way and skirted along the edge of the stage. She was barely able to hear herself think over the strange, warbling music.

Suddenly everything exploded into a loud Strap beat and a voice screamed out of nowhere, punctuated by the gravelly roar of an electric flixer. Jay jumped and screamed in surprise, but her voice was lost in the thunder of sound and the cheers of the crowd as the night’s entertainment began. A Dug bounced past her on his spindly backwards-facing legs, hopped up onto the stage, and began screaming into the amplicoder. She just barely stopped herself from covering her ears; she was sure disrespecting the local band was one of the quickest ways to offend the bar’s patrons and get her in  _very_  serious trouble.

_And Vhetin likes_   _this kind of music?_  She shook her head to clear the ringing in her ears and moved away from the stage. It took only moments to slip into the crowd, and she kept her eyes peeled for potential trouble.

She was instantly overwhelmed, penned in on all sides by beings of all shapes, sizes, colors, and ages. A fat Bith stared at her with large black eyes as she passed, then turned to his buddy and whispered something, pointing at her. She noticed the bulbous-headed alien was carrying a large, dangerous-looking sword on his hip so she changed course and drifted toward the booths along the western wall. She pointedly avoided a quivering mass of hair, eyes, and teeth that elicited a low growl as she approached.

Further on, a shirtless Zabrak with strange gray tattoos covering his face and chest was sipping quietly from a mug, froth running down his dusty, yellow-hued chin. As the strobe lights flashed she saw the man’s eyes were both artificial, gleaming a harsh red and blue in the darkness. He seemed to feel her stare and turned his dead mechanical gaze on her, raising an eyebrow in challenge as she drew near. Jay picked up her pace and left the alien man to his drink, trying her best not to dwell on how quickly his hand drifted toward his blaster as she passed.

Sitting in the booth behind the Zabrak was a beautiful red-skinned Zeltron female, apparently trying to put the moves on a human spacer sitting across from her. From what Jay saw, the Zeltron's charms – and her powerful pheromones - were working flawlessly: the spacer, looking a little wobbly even while seated, ordered another round of drinks from the serving droid and slid a stack of credits to his red-skinned companion.

Everywhere she looked there were more sights, sounds, and smells to discover. The sheer diversity of life packed into the crowded space was almost overwhelming, reminding her of her arrival on Mandalore and her first visit to the _Oyu_ _’baat._

But before she could get too lost in her perusal of her surroundings, Vhetin appeared through the crowd and motioned for her to follow. He seemed to drift effortlessly across the packed cantina floor, melting through the throngs with surprising grace; Jay assumed he’d had much practice in maneuvering crowded bars while searching for information from the locals.

Jay was not so inconspicuous in her traversal of the tapcaf floor. She scowled as some of the bar's more inebriated patrons began whistling and calling rowdily to her as they passed. She tightened her grip on her pistol as one of them reached for her with a slurred, "Hey, baby. How 'bout you ditch this crowd an' get with a  _real_  man?"

Vhetin shoved the man back into his seat. "Settle down,  _vod._ She's with me."

“So?” the man drooled. “Din’t your bucket-head mama teach you to share?”

The group laughed uproariously, but Vhetin paid it no mind. Jay gritted her teeth as they passed by the raucous group, glaring pointedly at the man who had spoken first. He fixed her with a leer and blew her a kiss.

"Can I shoot just one of them?" she growled.

"As entertaining as that would be, you should probably keep your weapon holstered. Leave them to be mugged by rogue feminist gangs. That'll teach them."

She huffed and turned away from the knot of drunkards. “Killjoy.”

They slipped through the crowd toward the bar, where a paunchy, four-armed Besalisk bartender was serving three different customers at once. The stout reptilian man managed to somehow pour three separate drinks and wipe down the bar with a greasy rag at the same time he was conversing with a pale-skinned Rodian patron. His sharp yellow teeth flashed as he let out a booming laugh, his multiple arms dancing across the bartop as he served his patrons.

"Kexio!" Vhetin called to the Besalisk. "Kex!"

The tender glanced up, his gullet pouch expanding as he barked, "Eh? What, whaddaya want?"

Vhetin took a seat at the bar, Jay remaining a short distance away. She wanted to keep on guard and not get too comfortable. The longer they spent in the cantina, the more she felt like they were in danger already. Like they were both being watched by unfriendly eyes.

The bartender seemed nonthreatening, at the very least. He sniffed, gullet pouch wobbling as he poured Vhetin a drink and growled, "Figured I'd see you here. Y’made good time from Mandalore, even by your standards."

Vhetin pointedly ignored the drink offered to him. Kexio didn’t seem surprised. "You sent me a message that you had intel on Kassh."

The Besalisk let out a low rumbling noise from deep in his throat. He shook his head, like an akk dog drying its wet scales. "Maybe I did. Who wants to know?"

With a flick of his fingers, Vhetin produced a hundred credit data chip seemingly from nowhere. He raised it into the light, letting the bar’s illuminators flash against its gold surface, then slid it across the bar toward Kex.

"Let's just say it's a concerned citizen," the bounty hunter said quietly.

One of Kexio's hands, this one wiping down the bartop with an old rag, slid over the credit. When the rag passed, the chip had disappeared.

"Alright,” the reptilian alien grumbled. “What do you wanna know?"

"Kassh. When was he here last?"

"Two days ago. He showed up outta the blue and barged in on a meetin'. No invitation, nothin'. Just walked right in like he owned the place. Punched one of my bouncers right in the proboscis.” He shook his head, ruffling the flaps of his gullet pouch. “Bad manners, that. Even in this neighborhood."

"What meeting?" Vhetin inquired.

Kexio glanced around himself, then leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Big meetin'."

"Who was there? I need names, Kex."

Kexio looked around himself again, as if worried someone was listening in. His beady eyes flashed in the dim lighting. But most of the bar's patrons were too fixated by the scantily-clad Twi'lek dancers that were now moving across the band stage. No one could care less about the bartender and his Mandalorian companion.

The Besalisk turned back to Vhetin and hissed, "Viiro-vari. Yuriq. Kallop. Sekha. Mintashi. Rotta. Jabba. Kammna. And Xizor showed up at the end."

Vhetin nodded thoughtfully. "And when Kassh left, did you see where he went? Did you get a speeder registration number or anything?"

Kexio shook his large, knobby head. "Nuh-uh. Sorry, Vhetin, but I can't help ya there."

Vhetin nodded, thanked the bartender, then flipped him thirty more credits. As he turned away from the bar, Jay heard her partner mutter a curse under his breath. She quickly trailed after him as he made his way back through the crowd, heading for the exit. They were clearly done here.

"What's wrong?"

"That meeting Kexio was talking about was between the leaders of some of the largest criminal organizations and gangs in the galaxy," he said. "There were even some major bigwigs like Sekha and Jabba the Hutt. And with Xizor there... well, that places our employer at the scene with the bounty. And that's never a good sign."

"So what? What does that mean?"

"It means something big is going down very soon. It's my guess that Kassh plans to screw it up. And when he makes his move, we have to be there to stop him."

"But first we need to find out exactly what's going on?" Jay volunteered.

"Got it in one," Vhetin said, swerving to avoid a hulking Gammorean. "One of the members of this meeting – a Twi'lek named Sekha – is based here, out of Coruscant. We'd do well to question her and see if we can't find out what these organizations are planning."

"Are you sure we can safely do that? Investigate such a large criminal organization?"

"I can pull a few strings to land us an audience with Sekha herself. We go back a long way."

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "A long time ago, back when... well, back before I was a freelance hunter, I was told to investigate a narcotics smuggling ring based out of Munnilist. When I finally tracked down the ringleader-"

Jay only partially paid attention. Most of her thought was drawn to the four black-clothed humans who had just emerged from the backstage door. They were all sporting large vibroswords and blasters. When they saw her and Vhetin heading for the exit, they began talking among one another and pointing at them.

_Mercenaries_ , her instincts screamed.  _Hitmen._

"Sorry to interrupt," she interrupted, "but it looks like we have visitors."

"Uh-oh," Vhetin muttered. A single hand clenched into a fist. He gestured to the pistol on her hip. "You've been practicing?"

"Every day," she said, unclipping the safety strap that kept the gun in its holster.

"Good."

The mercenaries began moving toward them as she and Vhetin approached the door to the outside. As soon as they were close enough, the group stepped in front of Vhetin and blocked their exit. Jay hung back a few paces, hoping to get a better angle with her weapon in case things got out of hand. Her partner, however, just folded his arms across his chest.

"Can I help you?" Vhetin’s voice was low and unnaturally calm.

One of the humans, a true giant of a man with a nasty-looking scar across his forehead, glared at Vhetin with a dangerous look in his single functional eye. "You been askin' a lot o' questions around here. You're nosy, bucket-head. And nosy outsiders don't last long in d'Underworld. So we're thinkin' about rippin' your nose off. That'll teach ya."

Vhetin sighed quietly and said, "Are you sure you want to do this? You might be taking on more than you can handle.

The man grunted out a laugh and gestured behind him. "Eight of us against one Mando and a little girl? I think our odds are just fine."

_Eight?_ Jay's heart was pounding now.  _There must be four more outside_.

Vhetin shifted a bit, looking only mildly tense. But Jay saw his fingers close around the long staff hooked to the side of his jetpack. The motion was disguised by his folded arms, and to the untrained eye he looked just as nonchalant as ever. Jay tensed; whatever was about to happen would happen in seconds. It would only take a single spark to light this fuse.

She glanced around and saw other patrons beginning to take notice. People were turning in their chairs to watch while others moved discreetly away to avoid being caught in the crossfire of a fight. Jay found herself wishing she could do the same.

"Last warning," Vhetin said, his voice barely audible over the band's deafening music. "Back off or get hurt."

The huge man laughed and shoved Vhetin in the chest. The exact wrong move. Before Jay could step forward to intervene, she heard a loud, sizzling  _snap-hiss_. There was a flash of blue and a scream.

The man suddenly had no hands.

What remained were red-hot cauterized stumps where his hands should have been. The severed appendages fell to the floor with quiet  _thud_ s, still twitching. Jay stared at them, eyes wide and mouth falling open. She had blinked and missed her partner’s first attack.

The music instantly died and several patrons gasped or screamed. Vhetin spun his ignited weapon swiftly and slammed his boot into the man's chest in a powerful kick, sending him sprawling back and crashing through the front door. The man collapsed to the ground, staring at the stumps of his hands and screaming.

The pike spun blindingly fast through Vhetin's hands again, then was suddenly still as he straightened, the shimmering blue blade of the weapon pointing toward the ground.

Everyone in the bar froze, staring at the ignited staff with a mixture of horror and awe. There was silence except for the electronic hum of the weapon's blade and the pained whimpering of the now-handless man. Then one of the human mercenaries let out a shout and jumped forward into battle.

The entire bar erupted into pandemonium. Jay drew her pistol and shot the man twice in the gut before he could take two steps toward Vhetin. The gun kicked in her palm once, twice. The man doubled over with a shout while Vhetin spun his staff deftly between his hands and tripped him with the  _beskar_  shaft of the weapon. Bar patrons went running everywhere – some screaming, others just hunkering down where they sat and putting their hands over their heads. The band seemed to decide to make the most of the situation and went right back to playing their deafeningly loud music.

Vhetin planted a foot on a chair and kicked it towards his opponent. The man batted it away, only in time to see Vhetin advancing on him. The bounty hunter's blade sunk into the man's chest with an electric sizzle and the mercenary crumpled silently.

Jay squeezed off a shot at a mercenary that charged at her with a roar and an activated vibrosword held high. She pumped three bolts into the man's stomach, but he didn't even stumble. When he was too close for comfort, her mind reverted to her military training in hand-to-hand combat. She ceased her fire and pistol-whipped him across the face. He staggered, surprised and struggling to regain his balance. She pressed her advantage and kneed him in the solar plexus, then slammed her elbow hard into his forehead.

_That got him_.

The man's eyes rolled back in his head and he crashed to the ground, unconscious or dead. Jay didn't really care which.

She looked up and saw that Vhetin had already taken the fight outside, leaving three dead or wounded mercenaries in his wake. She dashed through the open door, picking her way around the handless merc that had started this whole mess.

She emerged into the thick, muggy air of the Coruscant underworld and quickly spotted her partner near the speeder parking zone, fending off two mercs at once. Both thugs were using vibrosword weapons that seemed to deflect his lightsaber blade. The other two remaining men were cheering their comrades on. Jay watched with wonder as Vhetin fought, momentarily too stunned to move.

It was clear now that all Vhetin's skill in the sparring ring had only been a shadow of his true abilities. He had been holding back to train her. His sapphire blade was flashing through the air, painting the darkness around him with neon light that flashed and sparked every time he hit his opponent's weapon. He pivoted and jumped, rolling the pike behind his back to knock one opponent's sword aside without even looking. He elbowed the man in the face before bringing his weapon to bear on the one in front of him. His pike hummed violently as he swung it, buzzing and hissing with every slash and stab. The illumination from the blade seemed to linger on the air, enclosing the black-armored warrior in a cage of pulsing blue-white light his opponents could not hope to penetrate.

The man in front yelled and tried to slash at him, but Vhetin hopped back, smashing the shaft of his weapon into the rearward merc's stomach, again without even looking. The man crumpled with a grunt and Vhetin spun and whipped the end of his weapon into his opponent's skull, knocking him unconscious.

But the other merc was still advancing. Vhetin turned on one foot and fell into a defensive posture, parrying the incoming attacks. But despite the Mando's best efforts, several brutally powerful blows managed to penetrate his guard. She saw him wince slightly as the vibrosword scored a long bloody slash down his right arm. Splatters of red arced into the air and pattered against the ground. Before the merc could press his advantage, however, Vhetin pulled his trump card.

He leaped forward with another of his unbelievably high jumps, pivoting in mid-air as he did, and planted both boot heels in the man's face. His heels connected against the thug’s chin with a sharp _crack_ and there was a short splash of blood. The man was knocked clean off his feet, vibrosword clattering to the ground as he collapsed into an ungainly tangle of flailing limbs.

Vhetin landed hard, his boots thudding against the duracrete ground and pike grasped tightly in both hands. A few steps away, his opponent groaned and clambered back to his feet again, reaching for his weapon. The man’s nose was clearly broken, blood staining his lips and chin. But he seemed determined to continue the fight.

Vhetin didn’t give him the chance. Before the merc could grasp his weapon, the Mandalorian took two steps forward, raised his weapon, and swung it through the air like a long, thin club.

Jay covered her mouth in surprise, anticipating what was going to happen a second before it did.

The lightsaber blade at the end of the staff decapitated the man cleanly, slicing through flesh and bone with an synthetic sizzle and a shower of sparks. The merc's arms fell to his sides, his vibrosword slipping through quickly-slackening fingers. There was a last dying hiss of crackling plasma, fading away into shocked silence. And just like that, everything was still.

Then, seemingly in slow-motion, the man dropped to his knees and his head fell free, rolling across the duracrete parking zone. A second later his body crumpled to the ground, twitched, and fell still. Blood stained the ground around the corpse.

Jay's stomach lurched dangerously at the sight. If Vhetin was as disturbed, he didn’t show it; he instead flipped his weapon through the air, only to skillfully catch it near the blade emitter. He swung it down so the  _beskar_  shaft hit against his right shoulder blade, the saber pointed toward the ground in an open combat-ready position. He silently turned to face the final mercs.

The entire fight had lasted less than twenty seconds.

The two remaining thugs stared at Vhetin, looking every bit as horrified as Jay felt. Then they simply turned and ran as fast as they could. They sprinted for two large transport speeders parked near the edge of the large dropoff shaft that led deeper into Coruscant's underworld. Jay could hear them whimpering as they fled.

She started, the sound of their terror managing to shake her from her own heady shock. Once the mercs reached those speeders they'd disappear for good, taking any information they had with them. She jumped into action and moved to give chase, bringing her pistol to bear.

Her partner had other ideas. Vhetin’s gloved hand fell on her pistol, gently pushing her weapon down toward the ground. "Let them go."

" _What_?"

"Let them go," he repeated, his voice rasping out over his vocoder in short, pained gasps. He sounded exhausted, and his grip on his pike was shaking dangerously. "They can't do any more harm to us."

"But-"

"Let them  _go_ ," he said more forcefully, and watched as the two mercs piled into one of the speeders. "Sometimes mercy can be a more powerful weapon than any blaster. Besides, enough blood has been spilled today. The locals will be talking about this fight for months to come. That’s enough for one round."

“I…” she hesitated and bit her lip. “I guess you’re the boss.”

The Mandalorian sighed and deactivated his lightsaber pike, hooking it back against his jetpack with trembling fingers. Jay stared at his shaking hand, then stepped closer with a worried frown; his glove was stained with blood. Lots of blood.

"You're hurt."

"I'll be fine," he said, his voice tight and curt.

Jay examined the gash on his arm closer, touching the torn fabric of his flight suit. "No you won't," she said. "That cut went down to the muscle tissue. You'll need stitches, at the very least. If you don’t, that could get infected or—"

He pulled his arm away. "I'll be  _fine_ ," he snapped. "I’ve been in worse scrapes than this. And since when did you become the resident med-tech?"

She flinched away from him, hurt by his angry tone. She didn’t risk saying any more. Instead, she stepped away to put some distance between them and holstered her pistol, her gaze lingering on her boots.

“R-right,” she said. “Sorry. I just thought… never mind.”

He stared at her for a few moments through the expressionless faceplate of his battle helmet, then sighed. His shoulders slumped. "Look,” he murmured, “I'm sorry, all right? But you don't need to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

"If you say so…”

"Let's just get back to  _Void_. We can get a good night's sleep and get back at it first thing tomorrow morning. Those mercs will report back to their bosses and prove that we mean business. The ball is in their court now."

She nodded slowly and folded her arms. “Okay.”

He nodded back and moved to put a hand on her shoulder. He seemed to think better of it, and his arm fell back to his side, the bloodstained gloved hand clenching into a fist.

“You did well during that fight, Jay,” he said. “You held your own and managed to watch my back.”

He hesitated again, then added a terse, “Good job,” and stalked off without another word.

She didn’t bother watching him leave. Instead, her gaze wandered down to the body still splayed at her feet. She stared down at the decapitated mercenary, her eyes lingering over the blood and lightsaber burns. Her stomach crawled at the sight and she found herself fighting away a powerful wave of nausea.

_Is this really all that bounty hunting is?_  She thought to herself.  _Is this really what a_ good job _looks like? Mayhem? Death? Murdering others because they were stupid enough to cross you? At least in the military we had a reason to kill. A cause._

She remembered she  _did_ have a cause. She was doing this to get back at the people who had unjustly branded her a traitor. Them and everyone else like them.

But that excuse suddenly sounded very hollow to her. And she wasn't sure why.

_Why did you choose to come with Rame and me instead of traveling on your own?_  Vhetin had asked her during their first sparring match.  _I need a more in-depth explanation than just 'I want to punish those who punished me.'_

_I think I know now why he asked me that,_ she thought.  _Revenge is a great motivator, but only for a short time. After a while, it just... evaporates. Leaves you with nothing but a lot of questions._

So why  _did_ she want to become a bounty hunter? The decision had seemed so right when she had first made it that it was impossible to say that it was for revenge alone.

She thought about it during the entire silent ride back to the ship. By the time  _Void_ 's spearhead shape came into view in the distance, she still didn't have an answer. She was still fighting with herself as they approached the transport, nestled safely in its spaceport docking bay. She would have to keep thinking about this, and keep thinking hard.

_If this is what it's really like, do I really have what it takes? Can I really be a bounty hunter?_


	5. Natural Curiosity

**Later that night** **…**

Jay sat across from Vhetin in  _Void_ 's small mess hall – the center of the ship – and cupped a mug of caf between her hands as she watched her partner bandage his wounded and bleeding arm. He winced as he cinched the first layer of bandages tight, then fastened them with a strip of adhesive. Blood quickly began seeping through the bandages, a few tiny droplets snaking down his arm like raindrops against a transparisteel viewport.

The wound was certainly a nasty one. The merc fighter had scored a deep vertical hit down the Mandalorian's left bicep and the pulsating blade of the vibrosword had torn his arm open all the way down to the muscle. Vhetin should have been applying stitches, but he'd said he didn't currently have a med kit onboard with those kinds of tools. So he was bandaging his wound tight, keeping the blood flow in check till he could get it properly dressed. When pressed as to when this would be, he had only grunted, "I heal fast."

She took a sip of caf and narrowed her eyes at the bounty hunter. He, as usual, ignored her.

"Supersoldier," she suddenly said, staring at the face of his expressionless T-visored battle helmet.

He glanced up and tipped his head to the side, confused. "What?"

"You  _are_  a supersoldier, aren't you? I've heard of programs in the Empire that are working on it. Something about cloning tech and gene therapy."

He sighed and turned back to his wound with a shake of his head. "I already told you, no. Keep guessing."

"A Jedi?"

"Kriff no."

"You can't be a Sith," she said disbelievingly.

Again, he shook his head, pulling out another long strip of bandages to cover the already-bloody first layer.

"Then what?"

"I can't use the Force, if that's what you're getting at," he said. "And I am  _not_  a supersoldier."

"Well you sure aren't  _normal_ , that's for sure. The way you were fighting out there... it was incredible."

"Practiced."

"What?"

"I'm  _practiced_ ," he explained. He finally looked up again and met her gaze with his hidden, helmeted one. "I've perfected what I do until it's almost an art form. Fighting comes as naturally to me as breathing. _That's_ how I'm so talented with my pike."

He turned back to his bandages with a mutter of, "Sith my  _shebs_."

She took another sip of her beverage and leaned forward, placing her arms on the tabletop in front of her. The answer was only really half-helpful. That wasn’t the whole story.

"Okay, then," she said, unable to stop a hint of triumph from slipping into her voice. "Answer me this, then: how were you able to jump so high? You kicked that merc in the face with both feet  _without_ a running start. If you're not a supersoldier or Force-user, how can you do that?"

"That's for me to know," he said, a small hint of humor in his tone now, "and you not to. Professional secrets and all that."

She scoffed in mock annoyance and shook her head. "You know, you may think your mysterious attitude is somehow an irresistible turn-on, but it's really just annoying. You’re not going to net any fems with that behavior.”

He stopped bandaging his arm. When he spoke, his voice was very serious.

"I consider myself to be a lot of things," he said. "A playboy is not one of them."

"Sorry." She quickly backed down. If she didn't know better, she would have thought she'd struck a nerve. "Touchy subject?"

"You could say that," he said, turning back to his bandages.

They sat in silence for some time, Jay sipping at her caf, Vhetin continuing to tend to his wounded arm. Then she frowned and blurted out, "Why?"

He looked up at her, tipping his helmet questioningly to one side. She blushed, inwardly cursing her mouth for once again getting ahead of her brain. Before he could glare at her for too long, she clarified, "Why is it a touchy subject?”

“I like to keep my professional and private lives separate,” he said. “Makes things easier that way. When I’m out there I’m out there to hunt, not to _net fems_ as you put it. To insinuate anything otherwise is an insult I don’t take lightly.”

“But that’s not true. I mean, Aramis told me-"

She suddenly stopped, realizing she had once again overstepped her bounds. She was still the rookie here, and it wasn't her place to pry into the motivations or the private life of her partner. She quickly looked down at the caf mug in her hands, intently studying the suddenly fascinating array of tiny air bubbles in the chestnut brown liquid.

Vhetin didn’t seem like the kind who liked to spill his heart out to others, even after such a hectic fight. Besides, her info was based on a  _rumor_. If there was any quicker way to offend him, she wasn’t sure what it was.

_Great job, Jay_ , she thought with a grimace. _Once again, you let your mouth do all the thinking while your brain takes the backseat. It_ _’s a wonder he keeps you around at all._

But her partner didn't seem angry. He actually sounded a little amused as he sat back in his chair and set aside the bandages. "You've been listening to  _Oyu'baat_ gossip, haven't you?"

She hesitated, then nodded sheepishly. The bubbles in her caf were still intensely interesting.

"All right then, what did Aramis tell you? It better not be about that time on Polis Massa, or I'm going to rip off his-"

She shook her head. "It was nothing specific. He just told me that... well, that you had some kind of relationship with Brianna. Is that true?"

"I…. guess so. Yeah."

"What do you mean?"

He fastened the adhesive on the last layer of bandages and sighed. "I can tell I'm not going to be able to leave without giving you an answer."

"Not really," she said. "I'm a naturally curious person."

"Fancy way of saying you're nosy."

"I don't think you want to start name-calling, Vhetin.” She felt a little braver now. Her partner was obviously open to (finally) answering some questions. She wasn’t treading on glass any more. “I have a few choice ones for you that I've been dying to let loose."

"All right,” he relented. “If you really want to hear about it..."

He rested his folded arms on the tabletop in front of him and stared at the flat surface distractedly for a moment. Then he took a deep breath and began, "Brianna and I first met about seven years ago. Back then, she was working aboard the  _Blood Lily_ , a cargo freighter hauling supply runs for MandalMotors. She got pretty close with Rame and Mia after a while, until she settled down and started a life for herself on Mandalore. And then I came along.

"I was...” he hesitated, and she couldn’t miss the way his hands suddenly clenched into fists. “Well let’s just say I was pretty messed up at that time, still getting over some serious problems that had cropped up. She helped me out, helped me get through the days without killing myself. After a few years, I decided to adopt the Mandalorian way of life and she decided to become a bounty hunter. She helped me through that tough transition, too. Things got a little cozy, then it just developed into... more."

"You sound uncomfortable about that," she observed.

He sighed and his shoulders slumped. "I'm not exactly the kind of guy you want to get all cozy with. I’m not a romantic type. I have… trouble returning those feelings."

_Because you're so good at suppressing them?_ she wondered. But she didn't dare say that out loud. So she just brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and asked, "So what now? You're still together?"

He nodded. "We keep going together to the best of our ability, but these past few months have been a little strained. We’re usually offworld hunting contracts and when we finally get some time alone… well, we don’t get along as well as we used to. I think we're both starting to wake up a little and realize that we aren't exactly right for each other."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your problem."

"I still asked about it all the same. I'm sorry to pry into your personal life."

He shrugged again. "It's hardly a secret. You could get a more detailed version from Aramis, though it'll probably cost you a few drinks."

He stood from the table and walked past her, moving toward the door, lost in his own thoughts. She heard the door hiss open behind her. The conversation was clearly over and her partner was done volunteering information to her.

She stared at the spot he had left, thinking hard. Was this what awaited her if she continued her life as a bounty hunter? Would her conscience just waste away, leaving her with nothing but empty emotions and ash where her heart should be? She barely knew anything about Vhetin, and while she was beginning to feel some small affection for the man, she had already decided she didn't want to become like him; cold, solitary, and unable or unwilling to do anything about it.

But was he really that bad? He'd devoted his life to administering justice to an unjust galaxy, had rescued her from certain death, and had given back to her everything she could ever have hoped for. Brianna had seen something in him, something she apparently still saw in him to this day. What was it that she and Rame knew that Jay was still missing?

Lingering in the doorway, Vhetin paused and half-turned back to her. He spoke quietly and Jay started, shaken from her thoughts. "You handled yourself well out there today," the Mandalorian said. “I’m proud of the progress you’ve made. And you should be too.”

She paused for a moment, then thanked him and turned back to her mug of caf, hardly believing what she'd just heard. A real compliment? From  _him_? She smiled a little as she heard his boots thumping away against the floor, fading as he headed back toward the cockpit.

Maybe he wasn't such a square after all.


	6. Sekha the Seductress

The next morning, Vhetin steered his ship towards the center of the sprawling industrial complex built deep in Coruscant's offworld industry sector. As soon as he crossed the perimeter of the property, two ships – which looked as if they were made from a massive a collection of razor blades – swooped in and flanked  _Void_  with a telltale scream of ion engines.

" _You are trespassing on private property_ ," came the raspy, growling voice of a Nikto over the ship's comm. " _State your purpose here or we'll slag you into oblivion._ "

Vhetin keyed the blue comm button and replied, "I'm here on business. I'm an old acquaintance of Sekha's and I'd like to meet with her."

" _Sekha has plenty of males to keep her occupied_ ," the Nikto pilot growled. " _Turn around and leave_."

"Not that kind of acquaintance. I used to work for her."

" _As I said, she_ -"

"As a  _bounty hunter_ ," Vhetin snapped. "I need information from her."

" _Too bad. Reverse your course and-_ " The Nikto broke off on the comm and Vhetin tightened his grip on the flight yoke, wary in case the two fighters pulled back to fire. Sekha’s territory was notoriously rowdy, and it was entirely possible the hostile ships would try to blast _Void_ out of the sky just for fun. But when the pilot's voice came back, there was a hint of disgruntled respect in it.

" _Proceed to landing pad Desh_ ," he growled. " _You've been cleared for access_."

"Copy that." Vhetin signed off the comm and angled his ship towards the designated landing zone. After a moment, the fighters peeled away and disappeared to the east. Vhetin was glad to see them go; an armed escort was a little too conspicuous for his taste. All he needed was the information Sekha could give. Anything more just drew attention to him and his mission.

The door to the cockpit hissed open and Jay entered, taking her customary seat in the copilot's chair. She ran a hand through her hair and yawned. "Good morning. Where exactly are we?"

"Are you rested up?" he asked. "That was a pretty intense fight last night."

"I'm fine. Why?"

"We're heading into dangerous territory. Bloody Dawn headquarters."

"Okay..." She sounded confused.

"Sekha's base is a haven for illegal commerce," he told her. "It's one of the most dangerous areas on the planet, at least in the upper city. You'll want to keep your nose in your own business, or you're likely to get it shot off."

"Noted, I guess. But who is this Sekha character? I've never heard of her."

"That's the way she wants it.” Vhetin tapped a command and a hologram of a beautiful Twi’lek woman sprang to life above the command console. He kept his gaze on the viewport, allowing Jay to peruse the holographic readout. “On the outside, Sekha is a prominent upper-class Coruscant playgirl. She comes from a wealthy old money family on Serenno, where she officially holds title and land as a Countess. She moved to Coruscant after her family was assassinated for supporting the Separatists in the Clone Wars.”

“And what about off the record? What business does she have with Kassh?”

“Off the record,” Vhetin explained, “Sekha’s the head of a huge criminal organization called Bloody Dawn, which she built after she inherited the family fortune. She's one of Prince Xizor's biggest competitors in virtually all the vices: spice, smuggling, stolen goods, prostitution, and so on. But she also dabbles in areas that even Xizor won't touch."

"Such as?"

"Political assassinations, military-grade weapons trafficking, kidnapping, intergalactic terrorism, take your pick. The only reason she isn't on top of the entire criminal game is that the Empire is currently trying to weed her out of the Coruscant underworld. They know she's the head of the system but don't have any conclusive proof, so they're putting all their assets into taking her out. She's had to lay relatively low for the past few years."

"And she'll have information on Kassh?"

"She was the first one Kassh went to for help when Jabba posted the first bounty on his head almost two decades ago. He's relied on her many times in the past, and it stands to reason that he would have done so again."

"And what makes you think she'll tell you anything?"

It was a good question, but Vhetin had little concern for that eventuality. "I used to work as a full-time bounty hunter under her employ for a year or so. She likes Kassh, but she likes me more."

“I take it you and she were…” she let the insinuation hang.

His response was characteristically curt. “No.”

“I’m not judging, just—”

“I was her personal hitman,” he said. “Nothing more.”

She raised her hands in surrender. “All right, all right. I’m backing down.”

She pondered over this newest information as _Void_  set down gently on the landing pad, kicking up clouds of dust as it settled down onto its support struts. Sekha sounded like the best source of information they could get. But she was also cunning and treacherous. Would she really do anything to take out a competitor? She and Vhetin were technically working for Prince Xizor _and_  Jabba the Hutt, both rivals to her organization, and hunting down a former associate of hers. They seemed to be playing all the wrong cards right from the beginning.

Vhetin let the ship's engines cool for a moment, then powered them down and lowered the exit ramp. He stood from the pilot's seat and gestured for her to follow.

"Sekha probably won't try anything to harm us," he said. "But just keep your head down and your mouth shut around these people. The less we reveal to her or her minions, the better off we'll be."

"From all you've said," Jay decided to point out, "she doesn't sound trustworthy enough to rely on her intel."

"She let us land, didn't she?" he replied. "That means she wants something."

"And if she wants your head?"

He shrugged, hefting his saber pike and hooking it against his jetpack. "It wouldn't be the first time. Probably won’t be the last, either."

"That's a great comfort."

They headed out onto the landing pad, where a group of heavily-armed Twi'leks were waiting for them. All were armored and sported identical malevolent scowls. "You will follow us to the security station," one of them said in thickly accented Basic. “You make trouble, we shoot you. Understand?”

Vhetin nodded and he and Jay fell into step behind the alien mercenaries. As they passed through a large door into the industrial center, Vhetin slowed slightly to speak to his partner as they walked.

The interior of the industrial compound was deceptively opulent compared to its grimy, slate-gray exterior. A short interior hall led out into a much larger inner atrium, decorated with expensive flowing fountains and even an interior park complete with trees, bushes, and a small pond. The walls were draped with tapestries and fancy artwork, and most of the locals — guards included — sported expensive clothing and even more expensive jewelry. Jay had never seen such blatant flaunting of wealth.

Beings of all kinds were hurrying about their business, some carrying lethal-looking weapons but most sporting briefcases and wearing fancy-looking suits. Everywhere she looked — on the walls, the tiled floor, and displayed in holographic form — she saw a segmented emblem of a sun and the words  _Reenactment Cooperative_.

"The Reenactment Cooperative is the cover business for Bloody Dawn," Vhetin murmured as they walked. "Supposedly, they’re an environmental protection organization. They specialize in the disposal of noxious industrial waste as well as the mass sterilization of hyper-toxic spills. It’s a profitable business these days, especially on Coruscant.”

“Pollution’s only gotten worse since the Empire took over,” Jay agreed. “Industrialization tends to do that.”

“And it’s created an opportunity the criminal underworld hasn’t squandered. The Cooperative uses its business to lengthen its influence across the galaxy. Starts slow, with basic extortion and racketeering from Cooperative _environmentalists_. You can imagine how it works after the Cooperative takes control.”

“I can see why that would be so successful. I imagine this place doesn’t do much business with poor communities. They seem to cater to a more upper-echelon clientele.”

“And it’s served Sekha _very_ well. She’s easily the wealthiest criminal figure in the galaxy, and has more credits than Prince Xizor and Jabba the Hutt combined."

They passed by the indoor park and headed towards a guarded security station marked with a door that said  _Employees Only_. Three of the dour-looking Twi'leks passed immediately through the door. The final one turned to them and folded his arms across his armored chest. His tattooed lekku twitched erratically in irritation.

"You will disarm here before an audience with Sekha will be permitted,” he growled. “Conceal any weapons from us and you will immediately be shot. Understand?"

Vhetin nodded, then casually nudged Jay in the side to make her copy him. She didn't exactly like the thought of relinquishing her only weapon in such an obviously hostile place. She hadn’t made it this far by trusting her fate to others — or at least not by trusting non-Mandalorians. So as Vhetin began removing his missile-equipped jetpack and handing over his blasters, she inconspicuously pulled her jacket down over her pistol's holster.

Her partner somehow saw the motion despite his back being turned to her; he seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to noticing things going on around him. It was as if he had eyes in the back of his head. He leaned slightly toward her while the grumpy guard checked over his gear for any hidden explosives.

"Give them your weapon." The hunter’s voice was almost too quiet to hear.

"But-"

" _Give them your weapon_ ," he repeated. His tone left no room for argument.

She sighed and pulled her pistol from its holster, handing it butt-first to the Twi'lek guard. The guard took her weapon with a noncommittal grunt and stored it inside the armored security outpost. Once finally convinced they posed no significant threat — and after scanning them a third time, just to be sure — the blue-skinned guard finally motioned them to follow him once more.

_So much for fighting our way out,_  Jay thought as they passed further into the compound, away from their gear.  _Now we're completely defenseless._

"Remember what I said," Vhetin murmured. "Keep your head down and your mouth shut. I don't mean to sound rude, but speak only when you're spoken to. Sekha is dangerous."

Jay detected a hint of worry in his voice, which made her worry all the more in turn. But she nodded and reluctantly agreed to follow his instructions. He knew more than she did about Sekha, and it would be foolish to disregard his advice here, in the metaphorical rancor’s den.

The guard led them down a long hallway with black doors on either side, until they reached a huge reinforced durasteel door. The Twi'lek punched in a security code with sharp, jerky movements as if afraid of what lay on the other side of the barrier. Then the door opened with a loud rumble and a screech of metal.

Within was a room dominated by huge transparisteel windows overlooking a great panorama of Coruscant's cityscape, where the dawn was just beginning to paint the sky a glowing red-orange. Long crimson curtains and draperies covered the entire room and the walls were decorated in various shades of red. The floor was tiled with extravagant Munnillista ceramics for a few feet before being replaced with rich scarlet carpeting. The floor led down to a lowered spot in the center of the room dominated by a single long, luxurious reclining couch covered in exotic animal furs.

Lying back on the couch, attended by servants and majordomos, was a barely-dressed Twi'lek woman with light beige skin; a rare color among her people. She had a soft, beautiful face with a dark red flower tattoo over her left eye, as well as several intricately tattooed designs across her exposed arms and stomach. She was attended by several servants – also scantily-clad Twi'leks – bearing platters of food or drink.

The woman on the couch murmured something to one of the servants as she reached for a delicate crystal glass of dark, green-hued wine. The server blushed and covered her mouth with one hand. But her giggle died as the armed guard approached the couch and bowed before the pale-skinned Twi’lek.

The humorous glint in the reclining woman’s eyes vanished for a split second, replaced by an ice-cold stare that sent a shiver through Jay’s body even from across the room. There was no denying it; this was Sekha.

“Honored guests,” the guard intoned, turning to face the bounty hunters. “May I present her glorious eminence, Grand Countess Sekha’haji of Serenno.”

Vhetin took three steps forward and clasped his hands behind his back, almost as if he were standing at attention. Jay followed at a more sedate pace, fighting to stop herself from hiding in her partner’s armored shadow.

Sekha’s elegant face stretched into a much warmer smile at the sight of the bounty hunters, her eyes lighting up with playful humor when she saw Vhetin standing before her. She murmured something to the serving girls surrounding her, then gestured for the servants to leave. The young women scurried away with more hushed giggles, disappearing into hidden doors in the walls. After moments, they had vanished and they were alone with the crime lord.

"Well, well," Sekha's voice was almost a purr. She swung her long legs around onto the floor and stood to her full height. Her motions were smooth and graceful as the steps of a skilled dancer. Jay had a feeling Sekha had trained in such arts over the course of her career. The woman was clearly used to using her looks to get what she wanted; the indications of a talented seductress were written across her every movement.

"You may leave, Uitani," she murmured to the guard still kneeling at her feet.

The guard looked uncertain only for a moment, but bowed again and quickly moved out of the room and out of sight. The huge reinforced door boomed shut behind him, leaving Jay and Vhetin trapped alone with the criminal kingpin. Or maybe it was  _queenpin_ , since Sekha was female. Jay didn't know.

The alien woman surveyed Vhetin with a single raised eyebrow as she swaggered toward him, the pronounced sway in her hips making the scarlet drapes hanging from her belt flutter back and forth.

"When I saw your ship approaching my facility," she murmured, "I was so  _happy_  to know that you were coming back to our little piece of heaven. It's been so long since you've been a guest of the Cooperative. Have you come for work?"

"In a manner of speaking," Vhetin said calmly, "I'm already working a job. It led me here."

"Oh? I hope you haven't taken the contract for  _my_  head." Sekha pouted, biting her lower lip. "I do so enjoy wearing handcuffs, but I don't think it would be quite the same if  _you_  put them on."

"You can relax. I'm not here for you."

"Then why exactly do you need me?" She smiled, wrapping her arms around Vhetin's neck and pressing her body close to his. Jay raised an eyebrow, interested to see how Vhetin would react to such an intimate move.

"I'm here for information," he replied, seemingly unfazed. If he had a reaction to Sekha’s flirty, seductive attitude, he didn’t show it. Of course, the identity-concealing full body combat armor didn’t hurt matters; he could have been blushing as red as a torq beet and no one would be the wiser.

Sekha's coy smile stretched into a full-fledged grin. "About?"

"Kassh."

Her smile faltered for only a moment, but Jay caught it all the same; the short rush of disbelief and anger that crossed her features, then almost instantly vanished. The Twi'lek quickly regained her composure and pressed a brief peck of a kiss to the front of Vhetin's battle helmet. She giggled, then turned away and swaggered back to her couch.

"I like you, Cin," she said, trailing her delicate fingers across one of the furs draped over the luxurious reclining seat. "But I'm sorry. I can't help you."

Vhetin took a step forward and folded his arms across his chest. "Can't or won't?"

" _Can't_ ," Sekha repeated, a bit of steel entering her voice. "I don't know where Kassh is, if that's what you want to know."

"Respectfully,” the Mandalorian said, “I call bullshit. At any point in the day you know exactly where each of your competitors is working, who they're working with, and usually what they had for lunch as well."

Sekha smiled and returned to her previous position on the couch, tossing one of her head-tails playfully over her shoulder as she folded her legs and stretched out on her back. "Cute. But I'm telling you the truth. I don't know where Kassh is, where he's going, or what he's thinking. And I don't really care what he had for lunch."

"I need to find him. And you're the only one in the galaxy he trusts."

"And why would I violate that 'trust' to help you bring him in  _again_?" She frowned with mock-thoughtfulness. "That doesn't sound like me."

Jay thought that sounded  _exactly_  like her. From what she could already tell about the crime lord, Sekha was outwardly seductive and dangerously playful. But beneath that facade was a cunning and devious mind more than capable of running a massive criminal consortium like Bloody Dawn. Jay didn't trust her in the least; she didn't even enjoy being in the same  _room_ with her.

"I happen to know that Midnight Ultraviolet is moving in on your territory," Vhetin said, "making deals with your underlings and hoping to turn a profit by converting your contacts to serve Kassh’s interests. I know that no matter how much you trust Kassh, you don't trust him enough to look the other way while he steals from you. And I know that the last thing you want is more competitors."

Sekha's smile didn't falter, but her gaze turned positively frosty. It was a stunning change compared to the alluring temptress she'd been only moments before. She lay back on the couch and played with the tip of one lekku absently, staring up at the celling.

"All right," she said eventually. All trace of playfulness had vanished, replaced by a cold, no-nonsense tone that reminded Jay of her commanders in the navy. "You called my bluff. What do you want to know?"

Vhetin took a single step forward, pressing his advantage. "Any information regarding Kassh: where he is, who he's working with, what his plans are. I need financial records, personnel files, and maps. I intend to bring him in for good this time."

"Of course," she said quietly. She crossed her legs the other way and continued, "But we still have a problem, you and I. Even if I do want Kassh gone, I am still a functioning businesswoman. I have something you want, but what do  _you_  have to offer for it?"

Vhetin didn't answer, clearly not expecting that response. He just stood still as a post, staring at her with both his fists clenched tight. Sekha saw his discomfort and smirked in haughty triumph. "Ah. So you have nothing to give me in return. If that's the case, I'm afraid I can't help you."

A thoughtful look suddenly crossed her beautiful features and two of her fingers touched her chin. "Unless..."

She turned her gaze back to Vhetin, then clapped her hands together.

"All right, I will help you. But  _you_  have to help  _me_ first."

"How?" Vhetin asked, his voice tight with equal parts caution and skepticism.

She smiled. "I happen to have a bounty for you to track down. Bring in the target, and I  _might_  be able to supply you with all the information you want."

"And why should I work for you again? You tried to kill me on my last job."

"As I recall,” the Twi’lek said with a knowing smile, “all I did was pull a knife on you. You, however, broke two of my ribs and my forearm. I have the scars to prove it, if you'd like to see them. But come now, Cin, let's not bring up old quarrels."

She gestured to a holopanel on the far wall. "The information you need is on that terminal. I trust you'll find the contract adequate, considering what you're asking in return."

Vhetin glanced at the holopanel, back to Sekha, then back to the panel. He obviously didn’t like this development, but he headed for the info panel regardless. He tapped in a few commands to bring up the contract info and carefully scanned the document displayed there.

Jay didn't know whether to follow and read over her partner’s shoulder or wait for him to transfer the info to her datapad. So she just stood there, shifting her feet, uncomfortable and awkward in the midst of the opulently decorated room. Sekha, unfortunately, saw the motion and turned that cold gaze toward her for the first time.

"And who are you?"

Jay stared blankly, her heart plummeting in fear as she remembered Vhetin's earlier words:  _speak only when spoken to._ She couldn’t think of anything substantial to say. She could only gulp and squeak, "Vhetin's partner."

"Ah yes,” Sekha’s smile grew even wider, wide as a predatory razorfin shark. “I remember your face now. The mystery woman. You've caused quite a stir among the hunting community. Cin has never partnered with someone for long in the past."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow, looking Jay up and down from her position on her luxurious couch. "You don't look like much. I wonder what he sees in you."

Jay blushed and fell silent, but Sekha wasn't finished with her yet.

"Tell me," the crime lord said, cocking her head. Her lekku twitched as she did. "How many people have you killed?"

"Enough," Jay replied cautiously. "I was one of the top pilots in my squadron-"

Sekha waved her hand, dismissing the answer. "That doesn't count. Killing from the cockpit of a starfighter is nothing like having a gun in your hand. So answer my question correctly: have you ever stared into the eyes of the being you were about to kill, seen the terror, heard the sobbing and the pleading, then pressed a blaster to their head and pulled the trigger anyway? Have you ever killed in cold blood?"

Jay couldn’t summon the strength to speak in the face of such a question. She was completely disarmed in this woman’s presence, as if Sekha knew exactly how to make her feel as uncomfortable as possible. When she did find her voice, she shook her head and stammered, "N-no. I can't say I have."

"Then what hope do you have of succeeding as a bounty hunter, I wonder? I mean, if you've never even killed before-"

"You seem to have a lot of knowledge on the subject yourself," Jay blurted out. "Exactly how many beings have  _you_  killed?"

Her eyes snapped wide and it was all she could do to keep herself from clapping her hands over her mouth. Her heart was washed in ice and she was sure her knees started wobbling. _Damn it!_  she thought.  _Now I've done it. Now Sekha's probably going to have us executed because of me and my big mouth._

But amazingly Sekha just laughed. She threw her head back and let out a deceptively light, girlish giggle. "Ah, so  _that's_  why he allows you along. You've got spirit, girl. That alone will get you far in this business. Maybe you'll be able to make it, after all."

Jay once again could find nothing to say. Sekha saw her shocked look and folded her arms over her chest with one last chuckle. "Don't look so shocked, sweet thing. I'm so used to people groveling or bursting into tears in my presence. It's been too long since someone's had the guts to stand up to me. It's… refreshing."

Jay fell silent again, and Sekha returned to studying her closely. As the silence stretched on, the couch situated in the depression in the room began to feel more and more like a throne, towering over all present. After a moment, the Twi'lek crime boss spoke again. Jay would have preferred she stay silent.

“Would you like to know a secret?”

“Um…”

“Yes or no, love.”

Jay bit her lip. “Then… yes?”

Another giggle from the seductress. "I'm going to let you in on a little secret about your partner. He never does anything without reason. That makes him an effective hunter, but also very predictable. And because of that rather  _special_  personality, I think I know why he puts up with you."

If Vhetin was listening to the conversation, he didn’t show it. He was too engrossed in the contract presented to him. Jay found herself wishing he would come and rescue her from this uncomfortable line of questioning.

"Really? Why?"

"It wasn't to help  _you._ Vhetin isn’t in the business of saving damsels in distress. If anything, it was to make himself feel better.”

"What do you mean by that?"

Sekha smiled at her. "Come now. You know that a big, bad bounty hunter like Cin could pick up any hired thug he wants as a temporary partner, then toss them once the job is over. He doesn’t _need_ a partner. He never has. But he picked you for a reason.

"I think it was because you remind him of himself. Someone who's lost everything that makes them who they are, then is given a chance at a new life. But he wants you to use that chance differently than he did. He wants you to take that chance and twist it to your own gain before it's too late for you. Force knows it’s too late for him."

“What does that mean?”

Sekha waved a hand. “Old hounds and new tricks, that sort of thing.” She sighed and examined her neatly-manicured fingernails with feigned nonchalance. "Believe me. I've known many bounty hunters in my time. I've even met with Boba Fett on occasion. And I can tell you that Cin's hardly the Good Samaritan you may think him to be. Who knows? Maybe he even wants to get in your pants. I’ve seen stranger things.”

"I'd rather think he works with me because I'm a good shot and a better pilot," Jay said. Her tone took on a distinctly colder note. "Not that he's just out for himself."

Sekha’s eyes narrowed slightly, but not from any sense of ill will. "You know what? I like you."

_The feeling is_ not  _mutual_.

The Twi'lek stood and moved closer, scooping up a datachip from a nearby table as she approached. She was shorter than Jay, having to look up to meet her eyes. But the human woman still felt dwarfed by the Twi’lek’s presence, as if Sekha towered over her regardless.

"If you ever find yourself tired of freelance hunting," Sekha murmured, slipping the chip into Jay's inner jacket pocket, "call this transmitter number. I'm sure I can find an opening for a full-time employee. It's ever so hard to find good assassins these days."

"Thanks," Jay said, wanting very much to back away from the other woman. This close, she smelled of djadsberry and expensive perfumes. "I think."

Sekha winked with a roguish smile, then turned back to Vhetin. The black-armored bounty hunter was still reading through the document on the holopanel, apparently oblivious to everything happening in the room behind him. Jay found herself resenting his laser focus.

"Well?" Sekha called. "Is it satisfactory?"

The Mandalorian didn't move from his position. But a second later he said, "That's not the word I'd use. This guy's a Class Six bounty; a dangerous barve. You want me to bring him in to trade for information?"

"Mm-hm."

"You know that tradition says that nothing higher than a Class Three is accepted for information barter."

Sekha placed her hands on her sides, canting her hips to an angle. "Ah, but you and I have never been ones for tradition, have we?"

Vhetin paused, then reluctantly nodded. "Fine. I'll bring this guy in. But I want ten thousand as well as the information."

"Are you crazy? Five thousand.”

"Eight."

"Six and a half."

"Deal," Vhetin nodded and headed for the door without further argument. "I'll contact you by week's end at the most. He'll be in my custody by then."

"I'll be waiting," Sekha said, watching him leave. She headed back to her couch and threw Jay a gentle wave in farewell. Jay shuddered despite herself and quickly hopped into motion to follow her partner. The huge reinforced entry doors parted once more, clearly announcing that their audience with the crime lord was over. The armed Twi’leks that entered the room and gestured for them to follow also made matters clear.

“Do come back soon,” Sekha called as they left. “The Cooperative’s halls feel so very empty without you here, Cin.”

“I’ll be back,” he replied. “Get your credit book ready.”

Sekha giggled one last time, then the doors thudded shut and cut her off from sight. Vhetin didn't slow to talk to Jay or allow his partner to catch up. She had to jog to draw even with the hunter, then fell into step next to him. When she did, she threw a glance over her shoulder and whispered, " _Wow_."

"I told you. Sekha's cunning and treacherous."

"Somehow, hearing about it didn't do her justice." She nodded to the datachip he'd taken from the holopanel. "And what was all that about a Class Six bounty we have to hunt down?"

"Conventionally," he explained, "bounties are arranged into categorical classes from one to ten. One means they're not dangerous at all and the bounty's a cheap-ass milk run. Ten means they're extremely dangerous and that no bounty hunters are expected to return from the contract, no matter how good they are. Hunters like Boba Fett almost exclusively hunt Class Ten bounties."

"And this new guy is a Class Six?"

"Right."

Jay sighed and glanced over her shoulder again. The Twi’lek guards were following at a more sedate pace, glaring at them and ensuring the hunters left in a timely fashion. They were very clearly not wanted here any longer. She had no desire to stay any longer than necessary anyway.

"So who is he? The guy we're hunting now, I mean."

"I'll tell you when we get back to the ship. In the meantime, we need to grab our weapons and get the hell out of here."

“You sound as tense as I feel.”

“I don’t like it here. Brings back… bad memories.”

“Of your time working with Sekha?”

He didn’t answer right away. When he spoke, his voice was slow and cautious as if he was carefully measuring each word as he spoke. “I did some questionable things before I was a freelance hunter. There’s a reason I won’t formally sign on with any organization any more.”

She didn’t like the sound of that. “And here I thought you were just an independent spirit.”

“I was. Once.” He offered no clarification or further comment.

The conversation was clearly over, and Vhetin once again picked up his pace. Jay hung back for a moment, fished in her jacket pocket, and pulled out the datachip Sekha had given her. The little piece of tech glittered in the illumination of the overhead lamps. It felt heavier than it should, and Jay found her lip curling at the very sight of it.

After meeting with Sekha, she was sure she never wanted to work for  _any_  corrupt criminal kingpin, no matter how immoral and murderous the actual bounty was. She’d become a bounty hunter to punish the guilty and corrupt. But she wouldn’t work for one murderer to bring another to justice.

So, as they passed a garbage incinerator – the sealed interior currently heated to over four thousand degrees – Jay pulled back the lid and tossed the chip inside. The lid slammed shut and she jogged after her partner and didn’t look back.


	7. Sidetracked

**_Void_ ** **crew meeting room**

"We're looking at a bug-eyed tech wizard named Pollamo," Vhetin said. With the press of a button the projected holoimage of a one-eyed Rodian sprang to life on the duraplast tabletop. He leaned forward, making the projection sputter slightly. "Wanted for money counterfeiting, high-grade database hacking, and embezzlement. He's a former, ah…  _employee_  of Bloody Dawn."

"So why is he a Class Six bounty?" Jay inquired, studying the scrawny Rodian. He didn't look that dangerous; thin and sickly more than anything. Rodians in general weren’t that fearsome-looking, but this guy in particular looked even scrawnier than most of his species.

"He’s not. The contract is a Class Six because of his adopted big brother," the bounty hunter explained, projecting the image of a scowling, heavily-armed human next to the holo of the Rodian. “Kokr Paxan. He's extremely protective of Pollamo and has sworn to kill anyone that even  _looks_  at his brother in a way he doesn't like."

“He adopted a Rodian as his brother? That’s… unusual.”

“Not as unusual as you might think,” Vhetin said. “Among Mandalorians, you can adopt anyone into your family regardless of sex, age, or species.”

“And that’s common?”

“Common enough. And Mandos aren’t the only ones to share the concept.”

A frown pulled at the corner of Jay’s mouth. “I wonder what he sees in Pollamo. They don’t exactly seem like the same type.”

“That’s not our concern,” he gently reminded her. “We’re going to arrest them, not analyze their family makeup.”

“Right. Sorry.”

He let the holoimage sputter out. "Three months ago, Sekha's organization picked up transmissions between these two. The transmissions were encrypted, but not so well that Bloody Dawn techs weren’t able to trace the source. They found that all the transmissions were bounced off a comm relay orbiting Rhen Var, and subsequent investigation shows that they're hiding out in an old abandoned smuggling outpost there."

"Okay," Jay said slowly, leaning back in her chair. "So what does Sekha want with them?"

"A year ago, Pollamo stole close to a billion credits from Sekha's personal accounts. Apparently he got fed up with the way Sekha ran things and figured it was time to set up his own business.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh is right. Pollamo uploaded a virus to the Reenactment Cooperative’s financial systems and skimmed two percent off every transaction going in and out the system for twenty-four hours. With a business as large and far-reaching as Sekha's, you can imagine how much that raked in for him."

He sat down. "And as you can guess, it caused quite an uproar when Sekha's business associates were given only ninety-eight percent of their payments."

Jay scoffed. "I can believe them storming Bloody Dawn headquarters because they were stiffed a  _fraction_  of a percent."

"It's been the death of more than one criminal syndicate," Vhetin said, nodding. "But luckily Sekha was able to find the cause of her money shortage and track it to Pollamo before her clients went after her with torches and pitchforks. She’s promised to bring the thief to justice — and that’s a promise we’re going to help her keep."

"So what's our angle? How can we expect to take this guy by surprise?"

Jay had learned very early on that surprising the bounty was the best way to bring them in without significant injury. If a bounty target knew the hunter was coming, they'd have time to set traps and prepare for the hunter's arrival. A hunter needed to be quick, precise, and unpredictable above all other things.

Vhetin shrugged. "This guy's never hit a target as big as Bloody Dawn. He won't be expecting such serious consequences."

Jay’s brows pulled together. "So your plan is to barge in with guns blazing and hope his brother doesn't rip us limb from limb?"

"Pretty much," Vhetin admitted, sounding a little sheepish. "Except for one thing: his brother won't be a problem. Because we're going to take him out of the equation first."

"We're going to kill him?"

He shook his head. "No. We weren't hired for that, and any attack on him would likely alert his brother. What we're going to do is feed him false information that his brother is in trouble on a different planet. That Sekha's hired bounty hunters based from... well, pick a planet."

"So he goes to investigate while we track down where his brother _really_  is," Jay said, nodding. It was a smart plan, but there was one flaw. "We'd have to get this done quickly, before his brother finds out what's really going on."

"Yeah. Classic decoy move. If we play our hand right, we'll be long gone by the time Kokr finds out he’s been played. And without his brother hovering behind him, Pollamo is only a Class Two bounty. He's a spineless creep that'll barely put up a fight."

"You're sure? Because I've got a bad feeling about this. Sekha wouldn't give you this kind of assignment if it was easy."

"Maybe we caught a lucky break."

"Why do I get the feeling I'm going to be accepting your apology once this is over?"

Vhetin shrugged again and headed for the cockpit, leaving his partner to continue perusing the contract data set up in the meeting room. "Think what you will, but this is going to be a piece of cake. In the meantime, get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a big day."

The door hissed shut behind him as he stepped into the long central corridor of the ship. He took a deep breath, letting the quiet hum of the ship's engines draw the tension from his body. After only a few moments, his muscles relaxed and he let out the breath he'd been holding.

It was never easy dealing with Sekha and he had never been particularly fond of working for such high-class figures. But, provided their plan went smoothly, it would be the easiest job he'd ever done for the crime lord. It would be nice to be pleasantly surprised for once. He could almost see the Twi’lek’s playful grin now.

As he hit the opening button to the cockpit, he opened a long-distance comm channel. There was silence over the comm for a moment, then a long, slow beep signaled that the hail was being sent. After a few hailing tones, his contact picked up the other line.

" _Vhetin, is that you?_ " Tarron said, sounding exhausted. " _It's like midnight here. You've brought Kassh in already?_ "

"Not quite," Vhetin replied. "I need some information. I need you to hack the Imperial criminal database for me."

" _A tall order, particularly this late at night. What do you need?_ "

"I have a lead on Kassh's whereabouts, but I have to bring in a bounty to trade so I can follow it up. I need to know more about this new bounty. I'm sure the file I was supplied with wasn't complete."

" _Who's the unlucky target?_ "

"A Rodian named Pollamo and a human accomplice named Kokr," Vhetin said, sliding into the pilot's seat and checking the status of the ship. "Adopted brothers born on Coruscant. I need to know every scrap of info, every bit of dirt about them you can find."

" _I'll see what I can dig up_ ," Tarron said. " _I'll get back to you. And Cin?_ "

"Yeah."

" _Brianna's pissed that you left without saying goodbye. She's stocking up on guns as we speak._ "

Vhetin sighed and rubbed at his helmet forehead. Kriff, that wasn't good news. "It was a split-second decision. I had to chase this lead while it was still chaseable."

" _Yeah, you go ahead and tell that to Ms. Bellan when you get back. Maybe she'll just shoot you in the knee and be done with it._ "

"Tell her I apologized, then. And tell her to leave the guns alone. I'll be back in around two weeks, maybe less."

" _Are you kidding? I wouldn't go near her if I had a lightsaber. You_ _’re the one who’s always had a talent for calming her righteous Coruscanti rage._ "

He gritted his teeth. "Just tell her, okay?"

" _Fine. Tarron out."_

Vhetin signed off his end of the comm and sat back, putting his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. His part in this was over for the day. At long last, he could relax.

* * *

**The next day**

Jay woke slowly and sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes while yawning. The events of the past few days were obviously catching up on her, as the night’s sleep had been free of nightmares of Corulag and Darth Vader. She had dropped into a deeply restful, dreamless sleep — a rare occurrence since being freed from her hellish imprisonment.

Unlike usual, when she would begin her morning exercises, the first thing she did was look for her pistol. She felt an overwhelming need to feel its comforting weight in the palm of her hand, to feel strong and safe and powerful with it in her grasp, but the weapon was nowhere in sight. She patted the blankets around her cot, looking for where it must have fallen from her loosening fingers during the night.

There it was, sitting on the floor next to her cot. It wasn’t loaded, of course; she was smart enough to know not to bring a loaded handgun to bed with her. But she pulled it closer nonetheless, holding it close to her chest and feeling her heart rate gradually begin to even out and her nerves calm.

She was getting paranoid, she knew, but with good reason. The past few days had shaken her to the core. She was unsettled by what she’d seen, upset on a deep and subconscious level that refused to allow her the calm, cold composure her partner so often displayed. She suddenly felt exposed, in danger, wherever she went.

She shook her head as she dressed. _Vhetin was right. This job isn't for the weak of heart. I hope this goes away soon. I_ _… hope I can handle it._

She headed for the door, hoping her would have some additional information for her. Maybe he'd have tracked down this Pollamo guy already and they'd be ready to head out. Maybe some other hunter managed to beat them to the punch and Kassh was safely behind bars already — the thought was more comforting than she wanted to admit. As wondrous and lively as Corsucant was, was eager to get away from the sprawling ecumenopolis; so far, she greatly preferred the rural landscape of Mandalore to the clogged, chaotic streets and airways of Imperial City.

She emerged into the ship’s deserted central hall, thinking over all the information they'd accumulated over the past two days, sifting the information and looking for potential clues. Eventually, a list began to form in her mind.

One, they knew Kassh was at large and no doubt planning a trap for them. That made their own game dangerous, and there was an ever-present risk of falling prey to their own bounty. Jay shuddered at the mere thought of such a humiliating occurrence, as well as the idea of what Kassh might do to them if victorious. She’d heard of crime lords who had secret beast pits filled with nightmarish creatures; those who wronged the boss would be tossed into the pit as food for the beasts. She was sure she wasn’t alone in her desire to avoid finding out if the rumors were true.

Two, they knew that Kassh had the backing of his entire criminal organization and was probably gunning for them right now, hoping to eliminate them before they even got close to finding him. But with everything she'd learned about Kassh so far, she found it unlikely that he'd want them dead so soon. He'd want to watch them suffer first, to writhe and beg for mercy as he watched on, uncaring in his triumph. It was gruesome, but still the most likely idea given everything she'd heard about Kassh so far.

Three, they knew that Sekha was aware of Kassh's location (that is, if she was to be believed) but wasn't about to relinquish that information without something in return. Jay could appreciate that mindset, but it did throw an extra wild card into the mix. Sekha knew exactly who Jay and Vhetin were working for and might just lie to lead them into a trap of her own, ridding her competitors Jabba the Hutt and Prince Xizor of two useful assets.

Four, they knew that this new bounty, Pollamo, was a spineless worm just waiting to be brought in and that Sekha would give up her information once he was safely in her custody. After reading and re-reading Pollamo's file, Jay was confident he wouldn't put up much of a fight; his file had said he abhorred weapons of any kind, preferring cyberterror tactics and computer slicing to physical violence. That, he left to his brother.

Five, they knew the Rodian wasn't expecting anyone to come after him, and therefore wouldn't predict that two bounty hunters were about to blast his door down and drag him to Bloody Dawn's leader.

And six (finally) they knew that Pollamo's brother was a serious threat, though thankfully a little lacking in the brain department. That would work to their favor, but it was foolish to underestimate someone that dangerous.

She scowled to herself. It was all so confusing, but it didn't look like there was any serious surprises lying in wait – at least not for the moment. In fact-

A flutter of movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she stopped dead. Instinct kicked in, and she pulled herself out of sight around a doorframe, drawing her pistol swiftly and aiming towards the shadows that had just moved. Her military training kicked in, reinforced by Vhetin's recent teachings.

Who was that? Vhetin, maybe? She doubted it; the Mandalorian didn't usually slink around the shadows of his own ship like a prowling nexu. This was someone – or something – else. And if it moved again, it would get a blaster bolt in the head. She had learned early that sometimes it was better to shoot first and ask questions later.

But she didn’t fire at the source of the noise and movement — at least not yet. There was every possibility that whoever or whatever it was, it was no threat. So she stole a glance out the door and called, "Who's there? Show yourself or I'll shoot you for trespassing!"

A blaster bolt screamed out of the darkness and exploded against the doorframe next to her, missing her ear by only centimeters. She jerked back around the doorframe and let out an explosive curse.

That was definitely  _not_ Vhetin.

She saw the shadow — a tall, gaunt male — dart for the back of the ship and the exit ramp that had somehow been lowered. She threw herself around the corner, holstering her pistol and dashing after the mysterious intruder as fast as her legs could carry her.

The being glanced over his shoulder and stumbled, whimpering in fear. Despite his long, lanky legs he couldn’t flee quickly enough. Jay easily drew even with the shadowy trespasser and tackled him from behind. The being grunted at the impact, then squealed as they both fell to the deck with a crash. He struggled, wriggling like with all the speed and vigor of a freshly-caught fish. Jay wrapped her arms around her quarry's shoulders and head-butted him in the face. It hurt her head, but she could tell it hurt the intruder more; she heard a sharp  _crack_  and he wailed in pain.

Vhetin appeared from his quarters just as he was pulling his helmet over his head. He looked up and down the hall in confusion, saw the two struggling on the floor, and drew a heavy-duty pistol into one hand.

"What the hell is going on out here?"

Jay wrangled her opponent so he was face-down on the deck with his hands behind his back. Her prisoner tried to struggle, wriggling about with all the energy of a freshly-caught fish. But she yanked hard on his arms in warning and he squealed and ceased his struggles.

"I caught this creep sneaking around the ship," she grunted, shaking hair out of her face. She was breathing hard and her head hurt where she had head-butted the intruder, but her heart nevertheless swelled with pride. She’d caught someone! Someone armed, who had clearly meant them harm, and she’d _caught_ him!  "He tried to fry me when I found him."

Vhetin knelt next to her and pulled a pair of stun cuffs from his belt. He fastened them around the being's wrists with a single practiced flick of the wrists and grabbed him by the back of the neck. As Jay stood, taking a step back to catch her breath, she saw that the trespasser was a scrawny, trembling Duros with blood pouring from both nostril slits, courtesy of her head-butt.

Keeping a single hand tightly grasping the back of the alien’s neck, Vhetin turned and surveyed his partner. "Are you all right?"

She nodded with an adrenaline-fueled sigh of relief. Her heart was still thudding uncomfortably loudly in her ears. "I'm fine. Just a little winded. He surprised me, that's all."

The Mandalorian nodded, satisfied for the moment, and turned back to the Duros. He forced the alien's neck into a painful-looking angle and growled, "What the hell are you doing sneaking around my ship and shooting at my partner? Answer quickly. I’m not a patient individual."

"Please! Please! Please!" the alien bawled, "I not know! I know not!"

Vhetin slapped him hard — a move meant to humiliate and demoralize rather than injure — and pulled his pistol, pressing it under the blue-skinned alien's chin. The weapon charged with a high-pitched whine. "You're lying."

"No! No I not! Not I no!"

Jay folded her arms across her chest. Hers was a slightly calmer tone. "Who do you work for? Sekha? Or Kassh?"

"S-Sekha? Who that? That who?" the Duros sputtered.

"Open your hands." Vhetin suddenly ordered. He gestured with his pistol as he did.

"W-what? What do you mean? What mean you?"

"Your  _hands_ ," he snapped, slapping the Duros again. "Open them."

The Duros opened his hands, revealing dirty blue palms smeared with grime and encrusted coolant fluid. Vhetin seemed to scrutinize them very closely before letting out a grudging grunt. "Clean. He’s not with Kassh."

"What? What do you mean?"

"All Midnight Ultraviolet members have the tattoo of a splintered diamond on their palms,” her partner explained. “It's like a rite of passage for them, and a means of identifying members of the gang. This guy's clean though; he has no tattoos."

He gestured to the Duros’ grimy hands. They were filthy, true, but free of any kind of identifying marks. Jay’s lips pursed in worry; if this alien infiltrator wasn’t with Kassh, who was he with?

Vhetin turned back to the alien and shook him, making his stun cuffs sputter slightly. The alien yelped as the cuffs sent a shock through his nervous system. She could see the alien's dark skin turning a pale sky blue under her partner’s tight grip.

“Who sent you?” Vhetin snarled again. “Answer or I break your wrists.”

The Duros’ scarlet eyes widened and he sputtered, "P-p-p..."

He couldn't continue and broke down into whimpering sobs. Vhetin shook him again and said, "Who? Pollamo?"

"N-no,” the alien sobbed. “His brother. The brother of his."

"Kokr?" Jay said. She looked to her partner. "How would he know about us? Unless..."

"He has informants within Bloody Dawn," Vhetin finished, his voice dangerously low. He shoved the Duros against the wall with disgust. The alien sank to the floor and curled up, whimpering quietly. He didn’t make any move to run for his life.

Vhetin turned away and ran a hand across the smooth dome of his helmet with an aggravated sigh. "So Kokr's agent knew about our audience with Sekha,” he said. “And he sends this scum-" he kicked the trembling Duros with the toe of his boot, "-to find out what she told us."

“Which means he probably knows everything,” Jay said. “He’ll be preparing for us to come for him.”

" _Shab_ ,” Vhetin hissed. _“Shab, shab,_ shab!"

"So much for our previous plan, then.”

The Mandalorian nodded bitterly. " _That's_  the reason Sekha's set us on this guy. She can get money to cover what Pollamo stole any time she wants, but someone who's infiltrated her organization is harder to deal with. She sent us on a mole hunt."

He muttered to himself and continued pacing back and forth, clenching and unclenching his fists as he went. Jay followed his progress, biting her lip in worry.

"So what now?" she asked. "We aren't giving up, are we?"

“No.” Vhetin shook his head, his voice resolute and unyielding. "Never. But we're going to approach this from a different angle. We should come at this from a different perspective. Come up with a new plan."

He looked down at the whimpering, trembling Duro at his feet. As he stepped closer, the alien whimpered louder and tried to curl into a small ball, pulling himself as far away from the vengeful bounty hunter as he could manage.

Vhetin didn’t let him get far; he bent down and grabbed the alien by the back of the neck again, hauling him to his feet and dragging him toward the bounty cages.

"And  _you're_  going to help us."


	8. The Frozen World

**Rhen Var**

Jay’s boots thumped hard as she trudged down the ramp, already covered in an ankle-deep carpet of snow. She hissed as the frigid air hit her skin and pulled another heavy overcoat over her body. It did nothing to keep out the biting cold, forcing her to huddle down like a turtle in its shell, hug herself tight, and rub her arms for warmth. It still didn’t help.

"Damn," she muttered, her breath coming out in visible puffs on the air. "It's  _cold_."

"It is an ice planet," her partner pointed out. His voice was almost lost on the roaring wind. Her partner was a few meters ahead of her, scanning the horizon with a pair of high-power macrobinoculars.

Jay had never visited a global cryosphere before, much preferring the relative warmth of planets like Corellia or even Mandalore during the summer. Now that she was here, caught up in Rhen Var’s blizzards, she was starting to think she’d been right to avoid them.

There was really nothing all that special to see on Rhen Var. Mostly, there was snow; endless white fields of snow, stretching off as far as the eye could see until they rose into the distant, craggy mountains on the horizon. The sky above was a twisted, mottled gray-white of clouds that only barely allowed the rays of the system’s sun to peek through. And always, always, there was the wind. Endless blustering gales that tugged at Jay’s hair and clothes and had her blinking away frozen tears as the air seemed to freeze in her lungs.

If Vhetin was so disturbed by the dreadful weather, he didn’t show it. That may have been due to his Mandalorian training or his heavy-duty environment suit.  Before disembarking, he had changed out of his usual black-gray  _beskar_  armor for the first time since she’d met him; after all, black against the infinite white snowfields of Rhen Var was definitely a bad idea.

The Mandalorian was currently dressed in a bulky white Sub-Zero Combat Suit, a prototype suit of armor courtesy of Ume'o at MandalMotors. It featured a white Mandalorian helmet with a built-in macrobinocular set, HUD software upgrades for picking out targets among the blinding white of the surrounding ice fields, a life-support backpack for extreme low temperatures, heavy-protection gloves, and a bulkier flak vest to preserve warmth. The set was accentuated by a thick fur collar that wrapped tight around his neck, effectively sealing off one of the few points where cold could seep into the suit.

His reason for the upgraded kit was simple: his armor had heating and cooling units to keep the wearer at a preset temperature, could seal against the vacuum of space, and protect the wearer from all manner of environmental hazards, but only for a short time. The temp regulators weren't powerful enough to keep out the biting cold, wind, and damp snow of Rhen Var for extended periods. He’d explained that even the SZC suit would be hard-pressed to keep his body temperature above hypothermic levels.

But if Vhetin had it bad, Jay's situation was even worse. Lacking the training or the physical strength to wear such a high-tech suit, she had been forced to bundle up in more than three layers of clothing as well as a heavy fur-lined jacket and a full-face cloth mask with cumbersome frost protection goggles, just to keep herself warm. It was someone effective, but she was so encumbered by jackets, scarfs, and other clothes that she felt she could do little more than waddle through the snowdrifts toward her partner.

_Nar Shadda, the Coruscant underworld, and now here_ , she thought bitterly, shivering harder still. _Why can't we ever track down bounties on nice planets like Naboo or Vaynai?_

Tal Wam, their Duros intruder-turned-accomplice, came scampering down the ship's ramp, bundled up in bulky jackets, gloves, and hats just like Jay. He stumbled a little in the snow, then rubbed his hands together and surveyed the surroundings with his deep red eyes. He then scrunched up his masked face and grimaced.

"Cold," he muttered. "Very, very cold. Cold, very very."

Vhetin ignored the alien’s ramblings and grunted, "Where is Pollamo's base?"

Wam gestured to the southwest. All Jay saw in that direction was an endless, frozen wasteland. It didn't look like much at all. Vhetin must have seen the same because he pushed the mounted macrobinoculars up the forehead of his helmet and turned to Wam with a cocked head.

"You're sure?"

Tal Wam nodded emphatically. "Yep yep. That where they are," he said. "There they are where."

Jay glanced at Wam in confusion, then shook her head and said to Vhetin, "You think he’s telling the truth?”

“He could be,” the Mandalorian said, pulling down the binoculars and scanning again. “Rhen Var’s surface is dotted with ancient Jedi ruins and abandoned Separatist strongholds from the Clone Wars. There’s no shortage of places to hide here.”

“So if his hideout is in that direction,” Jay ventured, “What’s the plan? Are we going to sneak in to the base or attack head-on?"

"Both plans carry considerable risk," he replied. "They're going to be dug in like a nexu in its den. And they'll probably have private security forces crawling all over the place."

"We're still waiting on Tarron's info update," Jay added. “Right?”

He nodded. "Right. So for now, we're going to hunker down here and keep quiet. If we're going to be staying for longer than a day, we'd also do well to disguise  _Void_."

Jay surveyed the northern horizon, where a mass of dark clouds was gathering. "I think that snowstorm will do all the work for us. The planetary storm-warning system says to expect up to fifteen feet of snow. I checked as we set down."

"Then let's get back inside and see if we can't get Tarron on comms," Vhetin said, turning back to his ship. "If not, we can at least get out of this cold."

* * *

"Tarron, this is Vhetin, come in."

Vhetin, still bundled up in his white fur-lined armor, held the comlink in his hand and hit the transmitter button again. Only static greeted him. He leaned over the table in _Void_ ’s central mess hall and tried again.

"Tarron Matele," he repeated, "come in. This is Cin Vhetin. Respond."

"- _eah_ ," came the response, almost drowned out in white noise. " _I'm... -arely getting... -ou. Where the... -ell are you?_ "

Vhetin hit a button on a nearby wall panel and said, "Boost signal power. Clearance code Alpha-Thirty-Seven."

There was an acknowledgment tone and the panel glowed green. Even though he couldn't see it, he knew a satellite dish was currently sliding from its housing on the outside of the ship and moving to triangulate Tarron's comm signal. After a moment, the interference cleared a bit and Tarron's half-scrambled voice said, " _Oh. That's better._ "

"We're on Rhen Var right now," Vhetin said, cutting right to the chase, "but we're blind here. What have you dug up on Pollamo and his brother?"

" _Well_ ," Tarron said, " _I've got good news and bad news_."

"Let's have the good news first," Jay said, entering the room and pulling off the last layer of overcoat. She set her armful of coats and scarves on the mess hall table and settled into a seat next to Vhetin. "For once, I'd like something in my life to have a positive spin."

" _The good news is that Pollamo is exactly the spineless worm you thought he was. He shouldn't be too hard to bring in._ "

"Yep yep," Tal Wam said cheerfully. "Yep yep."

Vhetin glanced over at the Duros in annoyance, his helmeted gaze clearly warning the alien to quiet down. "And what's the bad news?"

" _His brother is deeply connected with the Empire_ ," Tarron reported. " _As in 'has a personal division of stormtroopers guarding his outpost at all times' connected to the Empire_."

" _Shab._ I knew-"

" _Before you panic_ ," Tarron interrupted, " _there's a good spin to that as well. The Imperial he has connections with happens to be frowned upon by most of the Imperial fleet. Does the name Natasi Daala ring a bell with either of you?_ "

"Not really," Jay said, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hand. "No."

"Natasi Daala," Vhetin murmured. "It does sound vaguely familiar..."

" _She hired Pollamo and Kokr to infiltrate Bloody Dawn in an attempt to dig up dirt about Sekha and gather enough evidence for an arrest and execution. She_ _’s apparently done some work bringing down crime lords before._ "

"So why is she so dangerous?" Jay asked, frowning.

" _Oh, the usual: ruthless attitude, zero-tolerance for failure of any kind. She's merciless, pitiless, and ambitious. And while most of the Empire frowns on her rather colorful assortment of employees_ _― mercenaries, pirates, et cetera ― she's well on her way to being the first Moff-ette._ "

"What do you mean?" Jay frowned thoughtfully and moved closer to the table.

" _I mean that she has connections with one Wilhuff Tarkin_ ," Tarron replied. " _A nasty old-timer with a bad attitude towards anti-Imps. If you pull this one off, it'll take Daala some time to find another contact to infiltrate Sekha's territory on Coruscant. You might want to drop that little bombshell by her when you see her next. See how big a bonus she gives you_."

Vhetin couldn't miss the sarcasm in Tarron's tone; Tarron had never liked the fact that Vhetin had worked with Sekha. There was an old feud between the crime lord and the Journeyman Protector that Vhetin had yet to learn about. But old quarrels aside, Tarron had a very good point.

"Does Sekha know?"

" _My guess is no. If she did, she would have come up with a better way to deal with Pollamo than sending bounty hunters. Sekha dreams big, and would probably have sent you after Daala herself otherwise._ "

Jay pulled a face. “No thanks. I know her type and I have no intention of tangling with her kind any time soon.”

"Hmm..." Vhetin sat back in his seat, rubbing absently at the palm of one hand. "Thanks for the update, Tarron. We’ll contact you again if we need you."

" _No problem_ ," the Journeyman Protector said, then signed off his side of the comm. " _I_ _’ll be on standby. Matele out."_

The comm unit powered down and Vhetin turned to Tal Wam. He pulled a set of stun cuffs from his belt and said, "You're going to show us where their base is. We're going to recon the place, then we might –  _might –_ think about letting you go free. If not, we'll secure you to a rock out there and let you freeze to death."

"Yep yep," Wam said, his voice tinged with fear as Vhetin shook the stun cuffs intimidatingly. "I show you. Show you I. No worries."

Jay raised an eyebrow as Vhetin put the stun cuffs back on his belt. "What, exactly, is the plan for bringing Pollamo in alive? If he has Imperials supporting him, he’s not going to come quietly."

Vhetin sighed. "I don't have a plan right yet. First we need to recon the area and see exactly what we're up against."

"Stormtroopers?" she asked.

"From what Tarron said, it’s a good bet. But he was mum as to how many there were. So that's first thing we need to find out."

He glanced at her. “You okay with all of this?”

She rubbed at the tabletop with the pad of her thumb, pointedly avoiding his helmeted gaze. “I’ve, ah… I’ve never fought stormtroopers before. Pirates are one thing, but…”

He paused for a moment. “If you’d prefer to stay on the ship—”

“No,” she quickly interrupted, standing from her seat with a sigh as she gathered up her cold-weather gear once more. “You’ll need my help out there. Imperial stormtroopers aren’t the bumbling idiots the holovids would have you believe.”

“And you’re sure you can fight if pressed? To kill if pressed?”

She felt her gut squirm. So far she’d managed to avoid killing anyone; even during the fight in the Brimstone tapcaf back on Coruscant, she’d aimed to injure and not kill. She doubted Pollamo and his brother would give her that opportunity.

“This is what I’ve been training for,” she said. “Like you’ve said before, this is just a job. If they stand in the way — if they force my hand — then I’ll react accordingly. I may not like it, but…”

She took a short breath and her face settled into a determined frown. “It’s what has to happen.”

He stared at her for a moment longer, then put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. The motion was awkward, as if he was unused to showing such signs of affection, but there was no mistaking the sincerity behind it.

“You’ll be okay,” he said. “You’ve got all the training you need to see this through.”

She smiled a little. “Thanks, Vhetin.”

“ _Viinir iviin_ _’yc_ ,” he suddenly said in _Mando_ _’a_. _“Bal tracyn serim.”_

She cocked her head. “What does that mean?”

“Run fast,” he said. “And shoot straight. It’s as close as we come to saying _good luck_.”

Without another word he pushed Wam out of the room towards the ship's cages. Jay stared after him for a moment, a small smile on her chill-chapped lips, then followed him into the ship's central corridor.

"So how do we get to this hidden base? You saw what it's like outside: just miles of snow in all directions. I hope you’re not planning to walk."

"That’s exactly what I’m planning to do. Checking against the coordinates Tal Wam gave us, I apparently set  _Void_  down about four kilometers from Pollamo's base. Any closer, and we're in range of their sensors. We'll have to hike the rest of the way."

"Hike? In weather that cold?"

"Unfortunately yes. So don't forget your gloves, because on Rhen Var unprotected skin gets frostbitten in thirty seconds flat."

* * *

"Kark it, it's  _cold_  out here," Jay muttered for what seemed like the hundredth time. She rubbed her gloved hands together as she waded through knee-deep snow. The wind cut like a freshly-sharpened knife, sending tiny shards of airborne ice into her face. She had long ago been forced to pull down her heavy goggles just to see.

The temperature seemed to be dropping by the minute, despite Vhetin’s claims that it was holding steady at around 60 below. She was wearing something close to four layers of overcoat as well as two pairs of gloves and an extra pair of snow pants, but the cold still dug through her and chilled her right down to the bone.

Of course, the bloody wind wasn't helping either.

"Br-r-r-r," Tal Wam agreed as he hugged himself, hopping through the trenches that Vhetin and Jay were creating in the deep snowbanks. "Br-r-r-r."

"Cheer up," Vhetin said ahead of them. "We're almost there."

Jay sighed and pulled her heavy cloth facemask more securely over her face. Her voice was muffled by both mask and wind as she called, "That's what you said half an hour ago!”

She expected him to shoot back some dry retort or to snap at Tal Wam for making too much noise. But he suddenly froze stiff — and not because of the cold. He pulled his blaster rifle from a sling across back and raised a fist, a military hand signal motioning them to stop.

Jay mirrored his position, halting in place with eyes wide and a hand on the butt of her pistol. "What is it?"

He stared at the horizon for a moment more, then tensed and hissed, "Get down. Both of you!"

Jay didn't think, didn't care about the cold or the deep snow at her feet. She just sunk to her knees in the snow until her head was hidden from view. She felt Tal Wam dive down behind her, covering himself almost completely beneath the carpet of white at their feet. Vhetin knelt ahead of them and leveled his rifle. His weapon was trained, unwavering, on a dark spot on the horizon, slowly drawing closer.

"Drone,” he growled. “Over the hill up ahead."

Jay risked peeking across Vhetin's shoulder and saw in the distance a hovering mess of probe arms and antennas. Even at this distance she could hear the warble of its repulsors and the chatter of incoming and outgoing transmissions. Its spindly legs flexed and darted about as it floated along, its rotund head shifting and swiveling to take in its surroundings as it went.

An Imperial probe.

"So Pollamo and Kokr  _are_  hooked up with the Empire," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.

Vhetin nodded. "Let's see just how well. We can't destroy the probe without sending up an alarm, but..."

He flipped a switch on his rifle and sighted up on the probe. When he pulled the trigger, his rifle emitted a loud sizzling  _pop_  and a blue-white ball of lightning flashed towards the probe. The droid collapsed upon the bolt's impact, and Vhetin murmured, " _Got him_."

Jay frowned at his gun and whispered, "What the hell kind of weapon is that?"

"A Mark-Four Shriekhawk," he said, stowing his blaster in its sling over his shoulder again. "It's a convertible blaster-ion bolt assault weapon for use against organics and droids. Prototype stuff from MandalMotors."

"Clever.”

"I use only the cleverest," he replied. "Now let's move before someone notices the bot is offline."

"No no!" Wam suddenly exclaimed. "No no! I not going. Going not I! I stay  _here_!"

Vhetin rounded on the alien, no doubt ready and willing to give him a smack for his defiance. But Jay beat him to it.

“I stay here!”

"No you're not," she snapped, spinning and grabbing his arm before the alien could run for it. He wailed and tugged against her. "You're going to follow us and help us get inside the base. We went over this!"

"No no!" Wam cried. "Kokr kill me!"

"Then get this straight.” She yanked her her pistol from her hip and jabbed it hard under Wam's leathery blue chin. "If you run now, I'll kill you myself. Your corpse will freeze over here and no one will ever know where to even _begin_ looking for you.”

Tal Wam’s scarlet eyes widened in terror.

“But,” Jay continued, “if you help us, you'll have  _us_  on your side. Pollamo and Kokr won't be a problem for you anymore, and you’ll be free to go wherever you want without them looking over your shoulder."

Still, the lanky Duros resisted. He yanked hard against Jay’s firm grip and cried, "No no!"

She snatched him by his throat and dragged him closer, until they were almost nose-to-nose. "Even if you manage to run, where are you going to go? There's kilometers of snowdrifts in every direction. It's almost nighttime, when the temperature drops fifty degrees from where it is  _now_ , not to mention the snowstorm that's still bearing down on us. You'll freeze before you get halfway back to the ship  _if_  you don't get lost. And that's if you're lucky.”

She wasn’t lying. They had long ago passed the point of no return. They had to keep moving forward now or risk freezing to death themselves. Wam’s resistance only succeeded in eating up precious time.

"So," she finished with one final glower at the alien, "are you with us? Or would you still like to head out on your own?"

The Duros glanced between his hands, seeming to weigh the possibilities in his mind. He looked over his shoulder at the endless ice fields surrounding them; Void could no longer be seen even as a dot in the distance. After a few long seconds, he gulped audibly and in a tiny, trembling voice said, "I show you way into base."

"Good," Jay said, and shoved him in front of her. “Glad that’s settled.”

Wam began to wade ahead of them, muttering to himself. Vhetin watched the spindly alien go, hands folded over his belt buckle. Then he looked to his partner and nodded with silent approval.

Jay blushed, her face thankfully hidden behind her warming face mask, and nodded back. As Vhetin moved to follow Wam through the snow banks, she allowed herself the smallest of grins. She was getting good at this. A few more missions, and she'd be just as badass as Vhetin!

_But intimidation is easy_ , she quickly told herself. _It's nothing but looking brave to someone else. Actually_ being  _brave in action is another thing._

That was certainly easy to believe. For all her bluster, she was just as terrified as Tal Wam. She didn’t want to experience the fight they would all soon face. If anything she wanted to march right back to _Void_ and curl up under the covers with a cup of cocoa and her datapad.

But she didn’t have that option any more. None of them did. Quite literally, their only hope for survival lay ahead with Pollamo, Kokr, and however many stormtroopers stood between them.

_I don_ _’t want to kill them_ , she found herself thinking again. _But this isn_ _’t about what I want. It’s about survival. About who walks away from this fight. And it’s not going to be them._

She found herself thinking back to one of her earliest lessons with her partner.

“You have to do whatever it takes to win,” he had told her. “To survive. There are no ethics in battle, just win or lose. Kill or be killed.”

She had no intention of being killed today. And if that meant she had to deal death herself, then so be it. She would ruminate over it more later if necessary, but right now they needed to get to Pollamo’s base, capture him and his brother, and cut down anyone who stood in their way.

_It_ _’s not pretty_ , she thought with a grimace, _but it beats the alternative: freezing to death out here, forgotten and alone_ _…_

Vhetin and Wam were almost to the bottom of the ridge already. Jay quickly moved to follow them, holstering her weapon again and resigning herself to think no more on the matter. The time for indecision, after all, was long past.

By the time she caught up with the others, Vhetin was lying on his stomach and staring beyond the ridge with his helmet's macrobinoculars pulled down over his helmet's T-visor. She heard him mutter, “Oh, _shab_ ,” as she approached.

"What've we got?"

"It looks like Tarron wasn't even close with his report," he replied. "The Empire is more invested in this operation than we thought."

Jay settled onto her stomach next to him and chanced a peek over the ridge. Just beyond, in a small depression in the ground that long ago could have been a sinkhole, lay a well-camouflaged collection of bleached-white buildings that reflected the sunlight with an intensity that hurt her eyes. It almost looked like your run-of-the-mill smuggler’s outpost: she saw a barracks, an armory, a comm relay, and a large storage depot. An assortment of people were hurrying around the center courtyard, some of them carrying weapons, most of them tapping away at datapads or hauling crates filled with Force-knew-what. All were heavily bundled up against the cold.

"Kriff," she murmured, heart sinking at the sight. "That's quite an operation."

A full platoon of stormtroopers in sub-zero equipment were marching across the snowy courtyard with fully charged E-11 battle rifles. There were manned turrets in place on the roofs of every building she could see, and patrolling the perimeter was an angular, predatory-looking IFT-T tank that kicked up a cloud of airborne snow with its repulsors as it passed..

Jay had seen those tanks in action on at least five different occasions during her navy days and knew they were not to be trifled with. Its dorsal beam laser could melt through a meter of plastoid in the blink of an eye, and the tank itself packed two powerful blaster cannons and missile launchers.

The entire area looked better-guarded than a Hutt's treasure trove. But apart from the obvious contraband smuggling going on, she didn't see anything that warranted such tremendous protection. Then something caught her eye.

"Wait a minute," she said, frowning in confusion. "I know that building."

Vhetin glanced over at her. "What do you mean?"

She motioned to what she had thought was a comm relay building; a large structure with a huge, five-meter-wide dish mounted on top. The relay dish rotated slowly, picking up signals from all directions.

"That's a signal receiver," she explained, "and it's probably hooked up with even bigger satellites in orbit around the planet. The Empire uses them in the military to eavesdrop on any kind of comm signal passing through the sector. With that kind of tech, plus a little encryption decoding software, you could spy on every open comlink for a couple parsecs."

When he just stared at her, she added, "We're beneath the cover of their listening field, though, so your earlier transmission to Tarron probably won't have showed up on their scanners. It would look like an outgoing transmission from this base."

He nodded and turned back to the outpost, visibly relaxing. "So it’s a listening post. Taking out that receiver would stall Imperial advancement in this sector for months, as well as cost the Empire hundreds of thousands of credits. It's certainly worth destroying."

Jay nodded, feeling a slight shudder of satisfaction at the potential for screwing up the Empire's plans so badly. It would be a good way to begin her revenge against the people who had branded her a traitor. Eavesdropping on innocent civilians was wrong, no matter who did the eavesdropping.

"So how exactly are we going to pull this off?"

"Not a clue," he replied slowly, surveying the outpost. "But... I think I'm beginning to see the first shreds of a plan."

"Mind sharing?"

He pushed the macrobinoculars up his helmet and pointed to the outpost, to the relay building in particular. "My HUD's scanners are showing that Pollamo and Kokr are both here and situated in your comm receiver building over there. But they're likely to make a run for it once they see us coming. Fortunately, our Duros friend wasn't able to sneak back to tell them how close we are, so they aren't expecting us yet."

"Okay, I follow. But how are we going to get in there? There's an army of stormtroopers standing between us and the bounty."

He stared at the outpost for a time before saying, "I'm going to have to take out the tank first; it's too big a threat. But with a little effort, I may be able to use it to our advantage."

She frowned at him. "You do remember Pollamo's wanted alive, right?"

"Yeah. And I won't shoot at anything with a proboscis, just in case. But the numbers are against us and that tank will do a good job of evening the odds."

Jay watched the tank begin its rounds around the perimeter again, the downdraft of its engines kicking up great clouds of snow and ice. The dorsal laser cannon swiveled back and forth as the trooper sitting in the turret barked orders to a passing patrol squad.

"And where do you want me in all of this madness?"

"This isn't going to be like the facility on Corulag," he said. "We can’t get pinned down in a firefight. With the Imperials and the weather bearing down on us…" He ducked back down behind the ridge and faced Jay. "So I'm going to create a distraction with that tank and hopefully scare most of them away."

"And how exactly are you going to hijack a tank?"

"If these guys follow Imperial protocol, there'll be a shift change before long. The guards will be on break for five minutes, the tank will be refueled, and I'll have a perfect window. I want you to take Tal Wam and sneak into that outpost. Try to pass off as one of Pollamo's tech employees."

"Done." With everyone bundled up in cold-weather gear, infiltrating would be surprisingly easy.

Her partner fished in a pack on his belt for a moment, then handed her a collapsible stun prod, currently switched off. He pressed a button on the side and the prod telescoped to its full foot-long length.

"I want you to take this," he said, testing it quickly. He pressed it against the ground and a shower of sparks flew from the tip. "When I start my distraction, I want you to lure Pollamo and Kokr to the storage facility — that reinforced building with no windows that we saw earlier. Remember?"

"Yeah," she replied, remembering the large, low-roofed storage facility.

"Good. Make it look like you're leading them to safety. When you and Tal Wam have them alone, knock them both over the head with this sucker set to full charge. I'll blow up that listening device and signal you over your comlink when I'm ready for backup. When you get my signal, leave Wam with the bounties and come and help me deal with the troopers."

"Can we trust Wam to guard our targets?"

“Yes.” He glared at the Duros, who shivered in response. "We can. There's just one major problem facing us: I can't move fast enough with this bulky environment suit. I'll have to ditch it to have a full range of movement."

"But-" The temperature was steadily dropping as night and the snowstorm drew closer. If Vhetin fought without the SZC suit…

He stared back at the outpost. "My normal armor's heating systems will keep me functional for maybe five minutes. After that I'll have to get indoors or risk severe hypothermia and frostbite. So we’ll have to get this done quickly or you’ll be fighting alone."

She sighed, trying to ease the tension of the moment. "Leaving the lady to do all your dirty work? That doesn't seem fair."

"I'm not joking. If I don't get inside after my heating systems fail, I'll lose consciousness after two minutes, and my arms and legs will be frostbitten another minute after that. I'm going to be depending on you, Jay."

She nodded. "I won't let you down, Stripes."

He nodded, barely even noticing her casual use of his nickname. He turned to Tal Wam next.

"You," he said, "are going to go with Jay and guard Pollamo and Kokr while they're unconscious."

"Yes sir," the Duros muttered, his voice muffled through his bulky cloth facemask. "Yes sir. Sir, yes."

"And can I count on you not to run?"

"Yep yep."

"And not to try and wake those two up after we've stunned them?"

"Yep yep. I hate Pollamo and Kokr. I nothing but bad nerf-slime to them. Kokr and Pollamo I hate. Bad nerf-slime is all I a-"

"Save it. Just make sure you keep them safe and unconscious. If you fail, you'll have us to answer to. Got it?"

Wam gulped. "Yep yep."

Vhetin pushed the macrobinoculars up and began unzipping the bulky suit that fit over his armor plating. The heavy cloth collar came next, discarded in the snow. She saw him begin shivering almost instantly; for him, the clock was already ticking.

"All right," he said quietly. "Let's make this work."


	9. Infiltrating the Base

Jay snuck down the snowy ridge with Tal Wam, trying desperately not to dislodge too much snow. She didn't want to be seen sneaking into camp. And in such a well-guarded area, the most minuscule sign of intruders would raise the suspicion of the guards.

"Keep close," she muttered to Wam behind her. "And don't do anything to draw attention to yourself."

"I keep quiet," the Duros hissed in reply. "Keep quiet I."

Jay tucked the collapsible stun prod into her jacket, careful not to stun herself in the process. Once it was secure, she crouched and made her way to a hiding spot behind a large, gray-white repulsor plow, designed to push multiple tons of snow out of an area with a single pass of its rotating blade. It was currently powered down on the edge of the compound, and the hollow area between the immobile blades gave Jay a clear view to the open courtyard. She put a hand in front of her mouth to keep her breath from fogging up the air and giving away her position.

It was still freezing, but it looked like the Imperials had set up a mobile environmental shield over the base, keeping the compound heated almost ten degrees warmer than the frigid snowfields outside the base. It wasn’t much help, but it was a nice comfort and it would keep Vhetin safe for longer without his suit. Jay knew they’d need every advantage if they wanted to survive here.

A group of snowtroopers paused near the other side of the plow, rifles held upright in a relaxed position. She froze, her hand hovering over her pistol. She couldn’t lose her cover now, not so soon after infiltrating. If the trooper saw her…

But the commander barked an order and the patrol began their march again. She breathed a sigh of relief as they turned a corner and vanished. Even now, months after her escape from BlueSend prison, she wasn't comfortable being in such close proximity to Imperial troops. She still had bad memories of beatings at the hands of those white-armored men.

" _Jay, are you in position?_ "

She tapped a finger against the comm unit hooked into her ear and replied, "Almost. How close are you to revealing your big distraction?"

" _The tank refuels in two minutes, but I'm ready for it. Just waiting on your signal._ "

"Are you expecting a secret code word or something?"

" _Hearing your conversation with Pollamo and Kokr will be signal enough_ ," he replied. " _Just keep your comlink activated and make sure you get them to that storage facility_."

"I'm on it. Jay out."

Tal Wam took a step closer and hissed, "How you get into base? Stormtrooper guarding everywhere!"

It was a good question. Imperials were guarding virtually every entrance and exit to the courtyard. If she did anything but blend in with the rest of the personnel here, she would not only blow her own cover but Vhetin's and Tal Wam's as well. The margin for error was very small.

She suddenly saw a human slip behind another nearby repulsor plow, apparently trying to get away for a 'fresher break. He tucked a heavy industrial datapad under his arm as he worked to unzip his snow pants. She cast another glance toward the courtyard and, seeing that the coast was clear, she moved out from cover and headed towards the man.

"Excuse me.” Her voice sounded far calmer than she actually felt.

“Ack! Bloody hell!” The man jumped and quickly zipped his pants up. "What? What do you want?"

She nodded toward his datapad. "I'm a few minutes behind on a manifest check. Can I see that for a second?"

"What? Fine, fine," he growled, shoving the pad towards her and turning away again. "Just leave me alone! Give me some privacy, huh?"

"Thanks," she said, then slammed the heavy 'pad across his head. He let out a sputter and crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Tal Wam clapped his large hands to his lipless mouth in surprise, letting out a coughing gasp of, "Ah-ah-ah!"

She hesitated a moment, debating whether to leave the unconscious man to freeze in Rhen Var's lethal cold. But though he was working for Pollamo and Kokr, she had no personal problem with him. After a moment, she knelt and pushed the man into the shelter of the repulsor plow, well inside the base’s heat shield. No one would find him any time soon and the heat from the idling repulsor would keep him from freezing to death.

As she was preparing to leave, datapad tucked under one arm, she paused a moment and pulled a blue-black armband off the man's jacket sleeve. It looked important; it may be some kind of identification badge or symbol of rank.

She quickly slipped the armband over her own suit, then motioned to Tal Wam. "Come on. Let's go before someone spies us."

Wam nodded and stepped in front of her to lead the way. "Pollamo and Kokr are probably in command center. I show you, yes? Yes, I show you?"

"Go ahead. But don't get us caught."

“No caught.” The alien’s scarlet eyes narrowed. “I sneaky.”

“I’m sure you are.” Jay sighed and glanced over her shoulder, looking for some sign of her partner. She couldn’t find one.

She didn’t have time to search for him further. Tal Wam set off into the courtyard, wringing his hands and muttering to himself, and Jay was forced to head after him. Noticing that everyone seemed to be involved in some job or another, she tapped some random commands into her stolen datapad, trying to look busy. She barely looked up as she passed by the snowtrooper garrison, not even when she passed into the turret's field of fire. She just kept walking, trying to project the outward appearance of a busy employee.

“Rule number one about infiltration,” Vhetin had once told her during training, “is to look like you belong. Nine times out of ten the majority of people won’t even spare you a second glance so long as you look like you’re where you’re meant to be.”

Wam cast a glance around himself and scurried toward the command center door. The snowtrooper standing looked at him and grunted, “It’s about time you showed up again, blue-skin. The bosses are waiting for a report.”

Tal Wam nodded and slipped inside, Jay following right behind him. When the guard looked at her with his helmet tipped curiously, she waved her datapad as if that explained everything. The guard sniffed and turned his gaze back out to the courtyard, tucking his rifle closer to the pristine white plastoid of his chest plate.

Once the door slid shut and sealed her inside, she let out a low breath and willed her heart to quit thudding so loudly in her ears. Her hands were shaking from adrenaline and she quickly clenched them into tight fists lest they give her away.

“Come, come!” Tal Wam said, waving for her to catch up. “Come, come!”

Jay nodded and fell into step next to him. Inside the command center was a large room with windows facing all the directions of the compass. Snowtroopers and bundled-up Imperial officers marched about the interior, carrying datapads, weapons, or crates of supplies as their station demanded. The entire area was dominated by a large hollow console tower swarming with electronic security readouts showing the complex from all kinds of different angles. She saw with relief that the view behind the plows was not among them.

A tall, skinny Rodian with only one compound eye and a bright yellow headband was tapping away at a holographic command console in the hollow center of the tower, surrounded by holographic readouts that spun around him in dizzyingly fast orbits. The alien's compound eye was probably able to take in all the information with no trouble at all.

_Pollamo..._  she thought, her body tensing at the sight. One of their targets was here, right where he was supposed to be. Now where was the other?

A rough voice suddenly barked out orders at a passing snowtrooper patrol. In one corner a heavily-muscled and tattooed human with a long black beard was shouting and gesturing at the offending patrol. As the snowtroopers moved on at a sharper pace, he returned to a terse conversation with two officers wearing thick winter jackets. The bearded man had a large blaster rifle slung over his back and a short vibroblade on each hip. When Tal Wam saw him, he flushed to a paler shade of aqua and let out a fearful whimper.

_...and there_ _’s Kokr,_ Jay thought. _Good. They're both here._

Pollamo must have heard the sound. He glanced up at them and his tube-like proboscis squeezed shut in the Rodian imitation of a frown. He tapped a button on the command console and stepped out from between the console tower's walls. He hopped down the small flight of stairs and approached them with short, jerky movements.

"Tal Wam?" he said in reedy, nasaly Basic. "What are you doing here? Did you find out what Sekha wanted with that bounty hunter?”

Tal Wam was already sweating and his foggy red eyes darted around the room in near-blind panic. At Pollamo’s questioning, he let out a little whine and his knees all but buckled. That wasn't good. Jay had to do something quick or risk the Duros blowing their cover. Nothing especially brilliant came quickly to mind, so she decided to chance it.

_Shit_ , she thought, preparing herself to make a very bad decision. _Here goes nothing_ …

"Sir," she interrupted, stepping in front of Tal Wam. She tapped another random command into the datapad — which wasn’t even powered on — and said, "I have the daily import manifest here and I've noticed some odd anomalies that I thought you might want to see. If you could just-"

"I don't need to see that," Pollamo said, waving his sucker-tipped fingers in dismissal. "Give it to the manifest officer if it's so important."

"I-I realize that, sir," Jay said, frantically grabbing for an excuse, "but this is really, really-"

_KA-THOOM!_

She was cut off as a colossal explosion ripped through the facility, making the ground tremble beneath their feet. Jay glanced out one of the windows just in time to see a thick plume of fire arc into the cloud-mottled sky. Stormtroopers shouted and ran in all directions and blaster fire instantly lit up the courtyard.

"What the stang?" Kokr growled, stepping up next to Pollamo. The two stormtroopers he'd been speaking to wasted no time in drawing their weapons and dashing through the door in search as the commotion. Jay tried to look just as incredulous as the others and thought she pulled it off pretty well. 

_Damn_ , she thought.  _Vhetin doesn't waste any time does he?_

"What the hell was that?" Kokr said, pulling the rifle from his back. It charged with a sharp whine. "It sounded like the perimeter surveillance post. That thing was crammed with explosives."

Jay's gaze flew wildly around her surroundings, waiting for the inevitable second explosion. And sure enough, seconds later there was a deep rumble and another ground-shaking explosion, followed by another thick arcing cloud of brilliant yellow-white fire. Jay head screams in the distance and troopers frantically calling out orders.

"I-it sounds like someone's attacking the base!" Pollamo stammered, pulling off his headband and wringing it in his hands. "W-what are we going to do?"

Kokr took a step forward, "I'm gonna go out there and kick some ass, is what  _I'm_  going to do."

"No!" Jay said, stepping in front of him. When Pollamo and Kokr glanced at her, she frantically thought for an excuse. An excuse suddenly came to her right in time, surprising even her.

"Sirs," she said, masking her surprise as breathless fear, "you're too important to this organization. We need to get you somewhere safe until we find out what’s going on."

"Screw that,” Kokr snarled. “I don't need no-"

"I think," Pollamo interrupted as another explosion rocked the complex, "that we should listen to the human. The stormtroopers can probably handle this."

He cast a wide-eyed glance around the shaking building and the Imperials sprinting about preparing for battle, then turned to Jay. "Where can we go that's safe from this?"

Jay held back a triumphant grin and pretended to think hard. She clapped her hands and cried, "The storage building! The walls are thick enough to withstand a rocket blast. Whoever is attacking won’t be able to get in there. We can hunker down and wait for reinforcements."

Kokr glared at her for a long moment, then grudgingly nodded. "Fine. I'll lead the way."

He shoved her aside as he passed and she stumbled back a few steps. He cursed at her as he passed and continued muttering as he cleared the doorway with his rifle and gestured for them to follow close behind him. As she, Pollamo, and Tal Wam followed him, she thought,  _I won't feel bad about turning_ him  _over to Sekha._

Only two steps out the door was chaos; Vhetin seemed to be taking great pleasure in his job. Smugglers and employees ran in all directions as chunks of molten metal rained from the sky. Stormtroopers were gathering together and preparing for an all-out assault. As she watched, the angular tank floated around the corner like a predatory razorfin shark. Troopers sprinted away from it, firing their weapons ineffectually at its thick hull. The tank came to a jarring halt, bouncing in mid air as its repulsors warbled loudly. The large missile turrets swiveled to face Jay and her group.

Her heart skipped a beat before she remembered that her partner was piloting the tank and it therefore posed no threat to her. After a moment, the tank swiveled away and targeted the huge receiver dish on top of the listening post.

With a massive  _ca-thunk_ , the tank fired at the dish. There was a flash of light and the tank rocked back on its repulsorlit engines from the force of the shot. The ensuing explosion melted through the bowl of the dish, carving out a red-hot hole the size of the tank itself. Another missile hit and the edges twisted and warped in on themselves. After a third tank round, the dish itself collapsed into the outpost, and the whole building went up in flames. Those inside quickly sprinted out into the cold, shouting aimlessly and scattering in all directions.

" _The receiver dish is down_ ," Vhetin reported in her earpiece. " _Repeat, the receiver dish is down. Jay, I need you to hurry up and get Pollamo and Kokr to safety. I can_ _’t pass up an easy target like you forever._ "

"I'm working on it," she muttered under her breath and broke into a run, following Kokr to the storage facility. The bearded man was charging ahead, looking back only to ensure his Rodian brother was keeping up with them. He couldn’t care less for Jay or Wam.

Suddenly, a missile round exploded behind her, driving her to her knees in the snow. She cursed and spun back towards the tank. It swiveled and its cannons charged up again, preparing to fire.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she cried furiously. She didn’t care if the bounties heard her.

" _I have to pretend to fire at you_ ," Vhetin replied calmly, " _or they'll catch on to us. Sorry, but no special treatment_."

“Just watch your aim.” She scowled and clambered to her feet again, running towards the storage facility. The rest of the group was pulling further ahead of her with every passing second. She doubted Kokr would wait for her. "I don't want to die out here in this frozen hellhole from friendly fire."

“ _You have so little faith in me,_ _”_ Vhetin’s tone almost sounded hurt.

Ahead of her, Kokr skidded to a halt next to the storage building, his boots spraying snow in all directions. He punched in a security code and the huge loading dock door slid open with a rusty scream. He fired off a few vain rounds at the tank pursuing Jay, then motioned to the rest of them.

"Come on!" he said, motioning them in. "Come on! We haven't got all day here!"

A tank round impacted the building just meters over his head and he cursed, diving into the building's dark interior. As another missile exploded nearby, Pollamo screamed – a high-pitched screech that made Jay wince – and scrambled after him. Tal Wam simply stared at the tank with wide eyes, quivering with fear. He seemed to have forgotten that Vhetin was deliberately missing them.

Jay gritted her teeth and dashed toward him, tackling him around the waist and pushing them both into the building. A missile round impacted the ground right where the Duros had stood, sending up a plume of snow and grit that splashed over them.

She covered her head and shouted, "Someone shut the damn door!"

Kokr roared with rage and hit the door controls. The heavily reinforced barriers slammed shut with a tremendous  _boom_ , plunging them all into darkness. A half-second later another missile exploded harmlessly against the barrier. The floor shook and dust rained down from the ceiling, but the door held. They were safe.

There was quiet now, save for the muffled explosions outside and Tal Wam's terrified wheezing muffled against Jay's coat. Another explosion rocked the complex and Jay could distantly hear stormtroopers screaming and shooting at the runaway tank. Jay pushed herself up onto her knees, shaking dirt and snow from her hair. She coughed, sucking frigid air into her lungs. "Okay,” she gasped. “I think we're safe in here."

Pollamo shook his head, his proboscis waving wildly. "W-what now?"

Jay brushed snow off her jacket and rose to her feet. "I think we should wait here until that psycho in the tank-"

"I don't think so," Kokr growled, raising his rifle and aiming it squarely at her chest. The weapon charged up with a series of dangerous clicks and whines. She stared at it, putting on an uncomprehending and fearful face. Her heart was racing once again, her face going pale.

_Does he know? If so, how_ much _does he know?_

"K-Kokr?" Pollamo stammered. "What are you doing?"

"What the hell are you doing?" Jay echoed indignantly, her hand drifting toward her own blaster. Kokr saw the motion and shot the ground at her feet, making her jump back in surprise. A rain of grit and vaporized duracrete pattered down around her. Her hands quickly shot up in surrender; she couldn’t do anything with that gun pointed straight at her.

"Did you think you were being clever, girly?" Kokr growled. "I saw through your little disguise the moment you walked through the command center door."

_Oh kark it all_. This wasn't good. But Jay couldn't drop her cover for even a moment. There was a slight chance that Kokr was overly paranoid or bluffing. So she put her hands on her hips and said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Kokr nodded to her armband. "You thought I wouldn't recognize the armband of my own second-in-command? And what did you do with Relpo, huh? Is he dead?"

So Kokr  _had_  seen right through her disguise. There was no chance that he was bluffing now. She needed help, and clicked her hidden comlink three times, paused, then twice more. It was a secret code Vhetin had taught her long ago, and would inform him that she was in trouble.

Static washed over her hidden comlink.

_Shit_ , she thought. _This place must be shielded against comm signals. That or Vhetin_ _’s too preoccupied outside._

"All right," she said, holding her hands up in a placating gesture. "What exactly do you want me to do? Apologize?"

Kokr grinned widely, revealing a crooked maw filled with yellow-black teeth. "No. Turn around and get down on your knees."

Slowly, Jay did so, putting her hands behind her head. Her heart was pounding in her ears as she listened to Kokr yank back the charging rod on his rifle. The blaster emitted a high-pitched whine as it powered up, preparing to fire. A moment later, she felt the cold metal of the blaster's barrel press against the back of her head.

She frantically clicked the SOS signal again and thought, _Vhetin if you can hear me, I need help. Now!_

Suddenly, she heard a sizzling  _pow_  behind her, and the blaster barrel's pressure eased. A second later the rifle clattered heavily to the ground next to her.

"What the-" Kokr choked out, then there was another snapping sizzle, and he fell silent. Jay whipped around to see Pollamo and Kokr on the ground, twitching and unconscious. Tal Wam was standing over them with his activated stun prod, which was throwing showers of sparks to the duracrete floor. The alien’s hands were shaking so badly he could barely hold the prod.

“I…” Wam gasped for breath, taking a step away from them. “I… I…”

Tal Wam shrank away from her, whimpering, as she got back to her feet again. He dropped the stun prod and it died with a loud crackling  _pop_ , throwing them into darkness. Jay pulled a flare from the pack on her snowsuit's belt and dropped it to the floor. The flickering red light threw enough illumination to see passably well. The two targets remained sprawled on the floor, oblivious to the world.

_Now that was unexpected,_ she thought. Her heart was racing in her chest, and she could swear she could still feel the barrel of the blaster pressed against the back of her head. She let out a long, relieved breath and stared at Tal Wam with newfound respect.

"You know," she said, kneeling and grabbing Kokr's rifle, "maybe I'll keep you around after all. That was a pretty brave thing to do. Thanks."

Pollamo shivered. "Are you kidding? _Kidding_? My just killed my bosses!"

“Yeah you almost did.” She smiled and patted him on the shoulder as she passed, slinging the rifle over her shoulder. "Keep it up, and you may grow into a good bounty hunter."

"N-n-no thanks. Thanks no."

She turned back to the door, readying herself to head out into the chaos of battle once more. "Until I get back, stay here and guard these schmucks. Make sure they don't wake up and try to make a run for it, okay?"

Tal Wam tentatively grabbed the stun prod again and whispered, "Okay."

Jay nodded and jogged back to the door. She hit the controls, took a deep breath, then ducked outside into absolute pandemonium.

At least four blaster bolts popped against the wall above her head as soon as she emerged into the frozen battlefield. She cursed and fell to her knees in the snow, tucking her stole rifle tight against her chest. The troopers must be shooting at everything that moved! She raised up sighted in with a scowl at the Imperial that had fired at her. The rifle kicked twice in her arms and the charging snowtrooper sprawled into the snow, clutching at his chest.

She clambered to her feet, unleashing a volley of rounds at two other troopers who were cowering behind an icicle-encrusted plastoid water container. The barrel heated red-hot as four bolts hit it in the side. A loud groaning came from the barrel before it exploded, spilling half-frozen water over the two troopers. In the sub-zero temperature, the water froze almost instantly, anchoring the troopers to the ground. They screamed and began hitting at the rock-hard ice covering their boots, to no avail. They wouldn't be going anywhere for a very long time.

Jay grinned and ran on.


	10. Snowstorm Battle

Vhetin winced as a grenade exploded nearby the tank. A chunk of armor cracked away from the tank's armor and flew through the air, embedding itself deep in the wall of a nearby building. The entire vehicle shuddered and began to belch smoke. He swiveled and fired at the grenade-throwing trooper, but not before two more bounced beneath the tank’s housing. One of the repulsor engines groaned and shut down and the entire vehicle listed hard to one side. A second later another repulsor engine exploded and the cockpit lit with red warning lights.

_Okay,_  he thought _, time to ditch the tank. Time to take this fight to the ground._

The canopy hissed open and the temperature within instantly dropped at least twenty degrees. Vhetin felt the cold cut right through his armor and the temperature compensators struggled to warm his body temperature. He changed the compensator's settings to keep his body temperature just above hypothermic levels. That would conserve maybe two minutes of power. Not much, but it might give him enough time to get to safety once his power levels dipped into the red.

He ignited his lightsaber pike and leaped out of the tank, heading straight for a small group of snowtroopers hiding behind a large containment crate. He wasn't going to kill them; he wasn't being paid for that. But he was going to scare them badly enough to run and never come back.

He spun his lightsaber pike blindingly fast between his hands, letting out the most ferocious battle cry he could muster. As one, the snowtroopers screamed and ran for a group of parked speeder bikes near the western perimeter. A few cast fearful looks over their shoulder and one shouted, “Run! It’s a kriffing Jedi!”

One trooper, however, stayed behind. He fell on his backside, scrambling away from Vhetin as he advanced. He was gasping and whimpering behind his helmet, his hands scrabbling in the snow.

_Come on, kid_ , Vhetin thought.  _Move. Run away. Run!_

As he got closer, Vhetin lowered his lightsaber pike and stopped a few feet from the cowering trooper.

"You're either very brave or very stupid," Vhetin growled, his voice low and harsh. "Neither of which are traits that I particularly envy. Do you want to die, miserable  _aruetii di'kut_? No? Then get  _moving_!"

The trooper nodded and frantically stumbled to his feet. He cast one last terrified glance at Vhetin, then sprinted for the last speeder bike. There was a loud  _whoop_ as the bike's engine warmed, then the trooper shot off into the endless white plain. Unfortunately, though the bulk of the stormtrooper guards were gone, the soldiers manning the turrets were still active.

_Very_  active.

_POW!_ Vhetin was thrown off his feet as the ground exploded beneath him. He flew a meter before sprawling into the snow, tumbling head over heels from the force of the detonation. He heard heavy blaster bolts stitching the ground behind him and jumped to his feet, running toward the nearest turret.

His instincts screamed that it was suicide to run  _at_  the turret. But the calmer, experienced part of him knew that the only relatively safe place was closest to the source of the turret's field of fire. Once he got close enough, the gun wouldn't be able to shoot at him as accurately.

Of course, that didn't affect the other three turrets. Even as he watched, they swiveled to face him. He threw himself into cover around a corner as they opened fire, peppering the snow at his feet with fire. His back hit the wall, but the turrets tracked him wherever he went and began carving chunks from the wall at his shoulder.

There was nowhere to go. He grimaced and braced himself for a volley of blaster bolts in the chest as soon as he moved out from shelter. His armor would hold under the blast, but it would still hurt like a bitch. His shoulders hunched and his fist clasped tight around the shaft of his pike. Maybe if he was lucky he’d be able to parry a few bolts with the lightsaber blade.

But the trooper manning the nearest turret unexpectedly screamed and tumbled off the edge of the building, hitting the snow with a heavy  _thump_ and a puff of airborne snow.

_What the hell?_  Vhetin looked around, searching for his mysterious savior.

Jay sprinted into his field of view, running as fast as her bulky snow suit would allow her to move and firing a long-range blaster rifle as she went. The troopers swiveled to face her, and the three remaining turrets – including the one directly over Vhetin's head – began to fire. He stared at her, momentarily surprised by her fearlessness. Then he thought,  _If I stay here for much longer, she's going to be ripped to shreds._

So he gripped his lightsaber pike, flipped off the auto-shutoff, and hurled his weapon like a javelin. The pike flew straight and true, striking another of the troopers in the shoulder and sticking there. The man screamed and recoiled, the pike sticking from his arm at an awkward angle as the blade hissed and sizzled against his flesh. He quickly pulled the saber out of his arm and threw it aside.

Vhetin dashed toward him and blasted off on his jet pack. Twin pillars of fire erupted from the pack, propelling him into the air. The other troopers moved to target him, drawn to the roar of his pack's thrusters. Vhetin ignored them as Jay siezed the momentary distraction to her advantage and took them out one by one.

He landed heavily on the roof and grabbed the base of his weapon. He flipped it around so he held it near the emitter hilt and dropped into a well-practiced combat stance. The trooper, holding his shoulder, began to circle him, also adopting a cautious crouch.

Vhetin scowled beneath his helmet, annoyed by the man’s courage, and growled, "Are you so eager to die that you'll fight a lightsaber-wielding Mando hand-to-hand?"

The trooper grunted, blood staining his white pauldron, and growled, "I've faced worse odds."

That certainly took Vhetin by surprise. This trooper was tougher than he thought; certainly tougher than his compatriots on the ground below.

_Okay, so the intimidation tactic isn't going to work. Now what?_

The trooper snarled and threw himself at Vhetin. The hunter deactivated his lightsaber pike and slammed it into the trooper's chestplate with all his considerable strength. The frozen plastoid armor plating cracked and shattered away from the trooper's body in a cloud of fragmented metallic chips.

It barely even slowed him down. He just ducked Vhetin's next blow and furiously backpedaled out of reach. Vhetin stepped forward and tried to slam his staff over the trooper's head, but his opponent grabbed the staff and wrenched it to the side. Vhetin's hold slipped, and the  _beskar_  staff bounced over the edge of the building.

Vhetin ducked and tried to dodge a flurry of blows to his head and chest, falling back under the sheer ferocity of the trooper's attack. He pushed the trooper away, placing his hands on the trooper's cracked and damaged chest plate and shoving him back a few steps. The trooper landed an elbow between Vhetin's shoulder blades, driving him to his knees. His knee then caught Vhetin in the faceplate and the hunter staggered back, holding his hands to his helmet.

His mind was spinning. This didn't make any sense! Normal troopers didn't have advanced martial arts training! Who the hell  _was_  this guy?

He got to his feet again and held his fists up in a balanced defensive stance. The trooper mirrored his motion and began circling him with slow, careful motions. Vhetin pivoted on his feet, keeping the trooper in his line of sight at all times.

He took a single step forward and unleashed a flurry of blows as fast as he could. Kicks, punches, headbutts, anything he could think of. The trooper dodged a few, but most of the attacks landed squarely where Vhetin intended. The Mandalorian braced his feet and drove his fist into the trooper's solar plexus, left unarmored by his damaged chestplate. His opponent doubled over, wheezing. Vhetin clasped his fists together and slammed them hard as a linked fist across the trooper's helmet.

The trooper grunted and fell back a few steps, then shook his head and jumped at him again. He tackled Vhetin, carrying them both right off the edge of the building. They tumbled in mid-air for a few dizzying, endless moments before hitting the snowy ground hard in a tangle of arms, legs, and armor plating.

Vhetin grunted and disentangled himself from the other man, managing to kick him in the helmet as he did.

"You're good, Mando," the trooper panted, clambering to his feet. "I haven't come across someone this talented since my training sergeant at the Academy."

Vhetin just launched himself at the trooper and lashed out with fists, feet, and any other body part that could double as a weapon. The trooper staggered back from an elbow to the faceplate and fell against the side of the building. Vhetin pressed his advantage and followed up with a one-two-three punch to the trooper's ribs, where his armor was thinned for maneuverability.

The soldier doubled over, then suddenly caught his opponent with a powerful surprise uppercut to the chin. Vhetin flew backwards and landed on his back in the snow. He rolled back in a reverse somersault and came up fighting. He leaped into the air and shot out both feet at the trooper's chest. The blow landed hard, driving the white-armored man into the wall with a sharp _crack_ of plastoid against duracrete.

The soldier clambered to his feet with a furious growl and moved to attack him again. Vhetin sucked in a short breath and clambered back to his feet, fists clenched and body prepared for the fight to continue. But the sound of a blaster powering up stopped both fighters.

Jay skidded to a halt next to him, aiming her rifle squarely at the trooper's head. The Imperial paused, slowly raising his hands in surrender. He was beaten now and he knew it.

"Step back," she snapped, tightening her grip on the firing stud. The trooper remained where he was, staring defiantly at the huntress through the eye-shaped apertures of his helmet.

"Step back," she repeated. " _Now!_ "

The trooper took two steps away from them, hands above his head. As Jay took control of the situation, Vhetin scooped up his lightsaber pike and hooked it back to its place on his jet pack. He let his back hit the wall, panting and holding his stomach. His muscles ached from the fight, his limbs quivering from exertion.

"I'm going to make this nice and simple," Jay snarled. "Get in that blue speeder plow over there and head for the horizon, or I'll blast you so fast it'll make what's left of your head spin. You try anything at all and you won't make it a single step."

"She's telling the truth,” Vhetin said. “I know from personal experience. You don’t want to test her."

The defeated trooper slowly turned and headed for the plow. Jay followed him with the rifle the entire way, even as he climbed up into the plow's pilot seat. He started the engine, gunned the throttle, and the vehicle rumbled out of the area. After a few moments, it dipped out of sight behind the snowy ridge.

The entire outpost was now eerily silent, save for the distant call of tundra birds. Everyone had either been killed or had fled in whatever speeder they could get their hands, claws, or otherwise on. The dark clouds had finally gathered and snow was beginning to lazily drift down from the sky. The entire field was churned with hundreds of footprints, but there was no one left in the compound save for Vhetin, Jay, Tal Wam, and the two bounties in the storage facility.

_Thank_ te Manda _for the shock and awe method_ , Vhetin thought dizzily. The heady sense of adrenaline was finally beginning to taper off. _The Imps ran rather than stand and fight_.

A chill ran through his body as he sighed. "Thanks, Jay. You came just in time."

The woman nodded and lowered her rifle with a huff that fogged the air outside her bulky winter mask. "No problem. That guy really had you on your toes, didn't he?"

"He did," Vhetin admitted. "Whoever he was, he was well trained in a kind of martial arts that even I've never seen. Some kind of variation of Teräs Käsi. He must have been an officer or a special forces trooper, sent to oversee operations here."

"Never mind his fighting style," Jay said. "Are you all right?"

Vhetin grunted. "Sprained wrist. Maybe a cracked rib. Nothing I can't handle."

He limped back to the storage facility, his body shivering violently as another chill ran through him. Then came another. He paused, confused, as a third ice-cold spasm almost immediately coursed through him, now accompanied by a wave of dizziness. His vision darkened for a moment and the ground seemed to lurch beneath his feet.

He stumbled and rested a hand against a nearby wall to support himself. He tried to catch his breath, but breathing was becoming harder and harder. He began to wheeze, fighting to suck in every frigid breath.

"Cin?" Jay asked, coming up behind him and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

He winced; even through his armor's flak vest and jumpsuit, her touch burned like fire. He shrugged off her hand and staggered away, deeper into the snow.

_What's happening? What...wh-_

His eyelids felt heavy and he had a hard time keeping his bearings. He shook his head to clear it, then again. Darkness began to crowd the edges of his vision. His entire world was spinning around him. Then he saw a glaring red light flashing in the bottom right corner of his HUD.

His heating systems were offline. And had been for about a minute and a half.

_Oh no._

He turned back to Jay, who was staring at him with worry. He tried to speak, tried to tell her what was wrong. But words failed him. He fell to his knees, sensation shrinking away from his limbs. His body grew numb, his extremities tingling and his head pounding. He tried to rise to his feet, failed, and collapsed into the snow.

Darkness swallowed him.

* * *

"Vhetin?" she asked, shaking him. "Vhetin, what's wrong?"

Vhetin staggered to the ground with a groan, then collapsed silently into the snow without a word, twitching slightly. Jay gasped and was instantly at his side. Her partner murmured something and clawed at the snow. He didn’t rise again.

_His armor's heat systems,_  she realized. _The power must have run out. He_ _’s freezing to death._

She didn't have any time to waste, then. Grasping him under the shoulders, she began dragging him toward the storage facility across the courtyard as quickly as she could manage. He groaned something and fidgeted in her grip and she had to adjust her hold, throwing his arm across her shoulders and supporting him as best she could. His boots dragged in the deep layer of snow beneath them and his helmeted head lolled against her shoulder.

Kark it, he was heavy. She grunted and pulled harder, almost dropping him as she readjusted her grip on the armored Mandalorian. She was making decent progress when he suddenly twitched in her arms. Her boots slipped against the snow underfoot and she collapsed back against the ground, his heavy weight on top of her.

"Kriff,” he hissed, shoving him off of her chest. He muttered something but didn’t wake up again. She hissed cold air between her teeth and struggled to her feet again, pulling her unconscious partner to his feet again.

“Any time you want to wake up, big guy," she muttered as she threw his arm over her shoulders and set off again, "would be just fine for me."

She heard a low rumbling roar behind her and she turned, thinking maybe the mysterious trooper had come back with some reinforcements. What she saw stopped her dead in her tracks. It was worse. So much worse.

A massive black and gray cloud of dirt and snow was blasting across the frozen wasteland directly for her. The cloud must have been hundreds of meters high and miles long and as it drew closer, the roar began to drown out all other sounds of the tundra. The wind picked up and ice chips began flying into Jay's face, slicing through her facemask and coat like they were made of razor blades.

It appeared the snowstorm had finally caught up with them.

_Oh_ shab _,_ she thought.  _This day just keeps getting better and better._ She grabbed Vhetin more securely and redoubled her efforts to drag him through the snow. Her progress was no faster than it had been before. She cursed as the cloud bore down on her, then activated her comlink and shouted, "Tal Wam! Get out here!"

The alien’s blue-gray face appeared in the window of the storage facility. "B-but I guarding the prisoners!" he shouted at her. "Guarding the prisoners-"

"I don't care! Leave them! I need your help!"

"But-"

" _Now_!"

She stumbled and Vhetin's head flopped. He twitched in her arms and suddenly woke, staring wildly around at his surroundings.

"What…" he tried to get his feet under him, failed, and fell. Jay lost her hold on him, and he collapsed forward onto his hands and knees. He shook his head and looked up around at himself. "What happened?"

"You lost consciousness." She got her arms under his left shoulder and hauled him to his feet, half-helping, half-dragging him towards the storage facility. "Your armor's heating systems must have run out. But if you don't mind, I'm kind of in a hurry here, so-"

The roar of the snow cloud crested a snowy dune a few hundred meters away and washed toward her like an out-of-control tsunami. She had seconds at the most before it was upon her. Vhetin muttered something that she didn't hear, then gasped, "I... I think I can walk."

"Not fast enough," Jay said, gritting her teeth as she dragged Vhetin along. "Trust me."

He finally got his feet under him and together they limped as fast as possible toward their shelter. It helped, but it still wasn't fast enough. The storage facility was still too far away. Tal Wam appeared, sprinting as fast as his lanky legs would carry him, and grabbed Vhetin's other shoulder, adding his strength to their struggle.

The snow cloud cleared the ridge leading into the compound as the three of them neared the storage facility. The roar of the wind was all-consuming now, and they had to struggle against the gale that blasted around them. The wind slowed their progress and every second lost only brought the snow cloud closer. The snowstorm blocked out the sun now and they were thrown into darkness.

They stumbled the rest of the way to the storage facility, and Vhetin collapsed to the floor the moment he was inside. He dragged himself into a corner like a wounded nexu and let out a hacking cough. Tal Wam disappeared into the shadows, scurrying off to Force-knew where with a terrified squeal.

Jay threw herself around the corner and hit the door controls with a clenched fist. With a low hum and a metallic rumble, the reinforced door closed just as an explosion of snow hit the building, making every wall groan in protest. There was a high-pitched whine as the door locked and sealed against the cold. The maelstrom outside enveloped the facility, surrounding the duracrete facility in a shroud of howling wind and flurries of dark snow. It pounded against the doors like an enraged beast, battering its paws against the barrier in fury.

Jay let out a long breath that she wasn't aware she'd been holding. She collapsed against the door and let out a dazed laugh.

"That," she breathed to no one in particular, "was about as close as you can get."

As soon as she'd regained her breath, Jay hit the buttons on a control panel near the door and the lights flickered on one by one. She turned and saw rows of sealed cargo crates of all shapes and sizes packed into the area just inside. At the head of one aisle were two inert bodies; Pollamo and Kokr, who hadn't moved since Jay had last seen them. They were still nice and unconscious and would most likely remain that way for the rest of the night. Jay saw with satisfaction that Tal Wam had secured the two with stun cuffs in her absence; they wouldn't be going anywhere soon.

Vhetin let out another deep cough and began fumbling with one of his belt pouches, his whole body trembling. She knelt next to him and took off her heavy overcoat. She wrapped it around his shoulders and he accepted the makeshift blanket with a terse nod of thanks. Even if the damage was only minor, he still needed to regain as much body heat as he could.

“Are you okay?”

The bounty hunter nodded and coughed again, then pulled three plastoid tubes of a clear liquid from his belt pouch. He snapped them and they began to glow with an orange light. "TE h-heating tubes," he explained, tucking them into his flak vest. "When activated, they throw off a couple hundred Tanntrens of heat for a couple minutes."

Jay pulled her thinner underjacket more securely around her own shoulders. "As long as you don't start stuffing them down your pants."

He chuckled quietly, then broke down into coughs again. When they eased off, allowing him to breath, he gasped, "T-they aren't as good as actual body h-heat, but they should work fine for a while."

Jay cracked a bit of a smile. "Yeah, well I'm not going to strip down to my underwear and snuggle up nice and close to keep you warm, so keep dreaming Mando boy."

"D-damn,” he wheezed. “And here I was hoping."

Further conversation was cut off by a rattle and a crash from somewhere deeper in the room; probably Tal Wam looking for food or something. The storage facility groaned loudly as the wind buffeted it from outside, but the doors held against the storm outside. Jay sighed and let her head thump uncomfortably against the wall behind her. She closed her eyes and let out a long, relieved breath; it was difficult to do, seeing as her body was shivering almost as badly as Vhetin's, but it was a relief to be able to sit and rest. She'd had enough of running and shooting for one day.

Some time later, Vhetin coughed and muttered, "J-Jay?"

She opened her eyes; her partner was slumped against the wall, his helmeted head hanging limp to one side. She could tell he was looking at her though he looked only barely conscious.

"What's up?" she asked.

It took a while for him to work up the strength to respond. He was breathing hard, as if simple respiration was a monumental struggle. When he did finally speak again, he coughed again and hissed out, "You are one hell of a hunter, Jay. Saved my _shebs_ back there. You're  _mandokarla_. _Vor_ _’e bal kote par gar, burc’ya._ "

She smiled. "Thanks, Vhetin. Even though I'm not sure what even half of all that means."

He laughed softly. His mirth quickly dissolved away into another round of coughing. Once he was breathing steadily again he fell silent. Jay waited for a moment, making sure her partner was all right, and quickly found he had lapsed into unconsciousness once again. As soon as she was sure the heat tubes were doing their job, she stood with a groan and moved to check on their prisoners.

Pollamo and Kokr had been cuffed to a nearby shelf supporter. The supporter was made of durasteel, while the stun cuffs were made of folded cortosis. Even if they had an arc cutter on their person it would take days for them to cut through their restraints. Currently they were both still unconscious; Pollamo was sniffling while his empty eye socket twitched and Kokr was muttering to himself and drooling.

_Charming,_ she thought.  _These guys are truly the cream of the universe_ _’s collective crop._

Satisfied the two men weren’t going anywhere, she headed back to Vhetin's corner and settled down next to him. She glanced over at him and found he was sleeping quietly. His breathing was quiet and slow, his head resting against the wall behind him.

She smiled; the image of this seemingly invincible Mandalorian in such a vulnerable state… it was strangely endearing.

She settled herself more comfortably against the wall and decided to get some shut-eye herself. If this was going to be her career from now on, she had some pretty rough days ahead of her. It would be nice to take a bit of a break, even if it was only for a little while.

She took two breaths, then fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.


	11. Bounty Claimed

Vhetin started awake, breathing hard, woken by the sound of howling wind all around him. He stared wildly around at his surroundings, temporarily unaware of where he was. A moment later the memory of seeing his armor's heating systems failing returned and he sighed in relief. Jay must have helped him to get into the storage facility when he'd passed out. Everything after he'd pitched forward into the snow was nothing but a blur.

He fought to rise to his feet, using the wall as a support. As he struggled to a standing position, he took in the dimly-lit storage facility with interest and his gaze fell on the two unconscious bounties. Pollamo and Kokr were cuffed to heavy durasteel supply shelf, safely and efficiently restrained for the time being.

_Good_ , he thought, letting out a low breath.  _They're still here_.

Jay was sleeping too, propped up against the wall only a few feet away. Vhetin stared at the overcoat she'd given him as a makeshift blanket, then decided to return the favor. He gently wrapped it around her shoulders, and she shifted a little in her sleep. She sniffed and pulled the overcoat around herself, then fell still and silent again.

He pulled the now-drained heat tubes from his flak vest and tossed them aside. The slightest movement sent fire through his body and he grimaced in pain; that probably meant that he had mild frostbite as well. He resisted the urge to rub his arms for warmth, knowing from past experience with hypothermia that it would bring nothing more than pure agony. When he pulled off his gloves he found his fingertips were tinged with blue, but the color was beginning to return to his skin. That was a good sign; the damage wasn't overly serious.

He sighed and shook his head, booting up his HUD again. The holographic display released a blast of silent amber light that his eyes weren't yet adjusted to handle. He blinked until his vision adjusted, then regarded his surroundings with increased interest. His helmet told him that the temperature inside the storage facility was currently holding around two degrees – a little chilly, but well within safety measures. The temperature outside, however, was another story. His HUD displayed that it was at least eighty below and still dropping. He shook his head with a short sigh of relief.

_It's a good thing Jay was on top of the situation. If not, we'd all be dead right now._

He heard a groan from a nearby aisle and turned toward the sound. Still tied to a shelf support, Kokr was finally beginning to regain consciousness. He groaned again and blinked a couple times before looking around struggling against his restraints. He groaned and grunted, "What in the hell? What in the _hell_?!"

"Good morning.” Vhetin moved closer, limping slightly, and squatted in front of him. “Apparently you're the early bird of the group."

"Kark you," Kokr spat. He yanked against his restraints. "What in the hell happened to me?"

"You see," Vhetin explained, "you and your idiot brother took a rather large amount of money from Sekha. I'm sure you've heard the name."

Kokr's face began to slowly turn down in a deep scowl. Vhetin took no notice of it and continued, "And, as one could imagine, Sekha was pretty pissed about that. So she hired me and my partner to find you and bring you back for... a fair trial, shall we say?"

Kokr snarled. "A fair trial from Sekha always ends with death. I tried to tell Pollamo that, but..."

"Don't try and play dumb," Vhetin interrupted. "That wasn't the only reason we tracked you two down. You have high-level moles within Bloody Dawn. You’re feeding information on Sekha’s operation to Natasi Daala and the Imperials."

Kokr visibly paled. Apparently, he thought his contacts were well-hidden. Vhetin suppressed a grin.  _Not hidden well enough._

"H-how do you know that?"

"I have my ways," Vhetin said. "All you need to know is that you're in a lot of trouble right now. You can think over that while we wait for the storm to pass us by."

Kokr scowled and tried to throw himself at Vhetin, but only managed to tug on his restraints. Vhetin turned away, wincing as he once again put stress on his raw skin. He saw that Jay was beginning to wake and he nodded to himself. He had to thank her for her part in all this.

She rose to her feet and wrapped her overcoat around her shoulders like a heavy blanket. With a shiver, she looked over at Pollamo and Kokr, checking that the two were still there. The Rodian was still unconscious and Kokr was glaring around at his surroundings with a gaze that looked as if it could boil water.

"Are those two giving you any trouble?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.

Vhetin shook his head. "The  _aruetii_  didn't bother me. Kokr's a little feisty considering you and I hold all the cards, but he'll get over it when we turn him over to Sekha."

"And what about you?" Jay asked. "Are you all right?"

"I'll be fine. How'd you fare during the fight?"

She grinned. "I'm not usually one to be prideful, but  _damn_  Vhetin. I kicked some serious ass out there."

He nodded in approval, unable to stop a rare smile from lighting to his face. "Good. It's nice to see that my training hasn't been completely wasted."

“Yeah…” She suddenly frowned. "But... I have something to ask you."

"Shoot."

"While I was fighting, there was this moment.” She hesitated, then said, "You'll probably think I'm a fool, but there was this moment when I didn't  _use_  my rifle so much as  _feel_  it. And I was suddenly... I don't know, it was like I was aware of every single thing around me. I saw this flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye and just  _knew_  that it was a stormtrooper. And I turned and ― guess what? It was a stormtrooper."

He nodded, listening intently.

She shook her head and shrugged. "That trooper would have killed me if I hadn't moved at that exact moment. And I was just wondering if... if you think I-"

"You're wondering if you felt a connection to the Force," Vhetin said. He'd heard this many times before from fledgling bounty hunters.

She nodded sheepishly, a blush coloring her cheeks. He put a hand on her shoulder and said, "I've heard of what you're describing; hell, I've  _felt_  it before. I even asked Rame the same question when I was just starting out."

"And?" She almost sounded frightened.

"It's not the Force," he said. "And you are not an undiscovered potential Jedi."

Jay sighed. "Thank kriff. I was worried... you know, Order 66 and all that. It would paint an even bigger target on my back."

“You don’t have anything to worry about.” Vhetin squeezed her shoulder, then stepped away. "What you felt was much more important than the Force will ever be."

"More important than the Force?" Jay asked, skeptically raising an eyebrow. "Excuse me if I don't believe you."

"It's true. What you felt was pure, unfettered  _instinct_. You've drilled in combat situations so much that your body reacts to certain conditions before your mind does. That's what saved you back there. Training. Instinct. _Conditioning_."

He folded his arms. "Unlike the Force, everyone in the galaxy has the potential for this kind of power. Everyone can feel this and everyone can be improved by its power. It’s not something hidden and accessible only to Jedi and their ilk, but something something real and achievable for anyone. And you're just now realizing what it feels like."

"So… I guess I'm now officially a true bounty hunter."

"You've been a true bounty hunter for months now. All you needed was a chance to show it."

He headed back to the wall, where he'd left his lightsaber pike and his rocket pack. Jay walked with him, rubbing her gloved palms together. She could barely keep her excitement from showing, even on her masked face. "So we got them? The job's done?"

" _This_  job," Vhetin corrected. "We've still got to track down Kassh."

Jay smiled and shook her head. "That seems like years ago."

He slung his jet pack over his shoulders and said, "We've got a few hours before we have to head back to Triple Zero. We have to wait until the storm lets up, so rest up while you can." He hesitated, then added, "I'm proud of you, Jay."

His helmet's 360-degree vision picked up a pleased grin from his partner. She quickly hid it, however, and said, "So what now? We're stuck here until that snowstorm passes over."

"Yeah. While we're waiting, I'll try and get in contact with _Void_. If I can get the autopilot engaged from here, I can remote-fly the ship to our position for a quick pickup."

"Sounds like a good plan.” Jay nodded. “And Vhetin?"

He turned back to her.

She bit her lip and said, "Thanks. Thanks for all the support."

He stared for a few moments. Then he nodded to her, the dim light of the facility illuminators dancing across his polarized T-visor. Then he disappeared into the darkness of the storage facility.

“Get some rest,” he called to her. “We’re not out of this yet.”

* * *

_To be continued in Star Wars: White Snow: Expedition_ _…_


	12. Next Time

_Next Time_ _…_

Pollamo and his murderous brother have been dealt with, and Vhetin and Jay are headed back to Coruscant to trade the two for information regarding their first bounty, the gangster known as Kassh. But Sekha is dangerous and unpredictable. Will she honor her promise the bounty hunters with Kassh's location?

And now, a more pressing worry dawns: Vhetin and Jay are no longer alone in their hunt. Another bounty hunter is ferociously chasing Kassh, determined to claim the reward and put the crime lord away for good.

Who is this mystery hunter? Is she friend or foe? And will she beat Vhetin and Jay to the prize?


End file.
